Good Things
by Dora Liir-Took
Summary: Remus, Tonks knew, had a strong dislike about looking people in the eyes but if you had a picture of him or caught his face just right, you could see them. Dark blue. Beautiful blue. Like his eyes were poetry. The story of Dora and Remus.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_The Invisible Man_

Nothing much going on. It looked like rain. In fact if you looked enough, you could see it coming down in spots. A rainy Sunday afternoon. There was nothing much to do except sit and watch the rain. Sit and watch the rain and think.

_All muggle born._ She tried to come up with every one she knew. People from school. People from work. Friends of the family. And family. She tried to think if the forces at hand achieved what they hoped do, just how much of her life would be affected? How many people would she lose? Tonks tried to count them off on her fingers—tried to number them. She didn't stop because it became too numerous but simply because she really had no idea who was and who wasn't a muggle born. Some were obvious. Some had told her but that part of someone wasn't a thing that people wore around on their sleeves. You can't look at a man and know he's muggle born or pure blood or a squib for that matter. How many did she know?

Her father was the most obvious out of all of them. He stood out like a sore thumb and for the first time in her life, she worried for him. Really truly worried. Ted had always been a man of crazy ideas and wayward plans. He was a man who chose to see the goodness in people rather than the faults. For that he was both a very well liked man and a very foolish man.

The war had been boiling for some time now. It was like soda under pressure. It was ready to explode and, try as they may, the Order could not seem to stop it or at least ease the explosion. Too many people stood in the way. Fudge mostly—a stout man who barked at the auror office continually about how Dumbledore was losing his mind. Those within earshot stood and smiled, nodded and grudgingly accepted Fudge's version of the truth. Kingsley and Moody were patient. They hated playing into the minster's hand but they did it with greater ease than Tonks could. She was all ready to rush about the ministry with a marching band, defacing Fudge and his "truth", trying to make the wizarding world wake up. There is trouble. There is a war. There are people who want to erase our way of life. You can't hide from it.

Of course what was Tonks to the wizarding world but a single witch who sat so low on the totem pole that most people didn't notice her despite her ever changing hair color? She was told to bite her tongue, smile and nod.

Unable to speak about the injustice, Tonks found thinking about it insufferable and turned again to her father. Her friends. All muggle born. Who all did that title encircle? How many members of the Order would be put on the chopping block not because they were waging a war against the ministry but because of who their parents were? Tonks quickly flicked through all the members, marking them off as safe or not.

And really only one huge hole presented itself.

Of course there was dozens of witches and wizards in the Order. Of course she didn't know _every_ one of them but she considered the ones she did and the ones who meant something to her—the ones that hit a personal chord.

And there was only one real hole.

She had no idea what Remus was. In all their conversations the one thing he spoke of the least of was his family. He had a mother and a father. That, all in all, was about it. The rest was a mystery. It wasn't a kind of topic Tonks regularly thought to be of importance—blood lines and blood status. But now in the path of a coming war, the question seemed of dire significance. Like the fear she felt for her father, Tonks began to wonder if this good friend was in danger as well. Perhaps that was why he never talked much of life before the Order. Remus could see what was coming and (in his usual fashion) hated the idea of people worrying about him. He would keep this part of his life secret as well. He would take this to the grave and rather die than bother someone with his silly problems.

Tonks rolled her eyes. So stupid.

If that was the case, it wouldn't be the first time. Once on a mission for the Order, Tonks and Remus were sent out together to escort the Weasley children and Harry back to Hogwarts via the Knight Bus after their Christmas holiday. On their way back the duo was apprehended by a pack of dodgy looking thugs who attempted to mug them. Both still liked to joke about why in the world the group chose _them._ Remus certainly didn't look like he was made of money and Tonks in her usual mismatched outfit couldn't have appeared rich in any way.

Still the group rounded on the wizard and witch and got a good hexing for their troubles. It wasn't until the pair got back to headquarters that Tonks realized something was wrong. Remus held his upper arm tightly and when he removed his robe, it was clear there was a puddle of blood pooling beneath his shirt. One of the thugs had had a knife.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tonks demanded as she watched Remus dab at the cut later that evening.

"It's not a big deal," he said with what seemed an ill fitting smile, "I've had worse. Believe me."

But to Tonks, the cut looked bad. It was long and no matter how much Remus worked at it, it never seemed to stop bleeding. Tonks and Sirius had to basically beg Remus to allow Molly to look at it. Even after it had been cleaned and bandaged away, the man still insisted it was fine and he could have easily dealt with it himself.

So stupid.

_All muggle born._ She began again but her thoughts were cut short by a shuffle outside her door. Tonks lifted her gaze and stared across her flat towards the door where she distinctly heard the shuffle again. Someone was outside her apartment and had just realized how loud the creaky floorboards could be. They creaked again under the weight of the stranger. On the defense, Tonks gripped her wand as she approached the door and lifted it eye level as she opened it.

To her surprise, there was no one there. Curious, she let the door swing open all the way and stared down the hallway, faintly hearing another shuffle and a pop. Perhaps someone had just disapparated? Or perhaps Tonks had heard nothing. Her mind had been on frightening material and perhaps she had imagined someone was there—ready to snatch up all her muggle born acquaintances and attempt other nasty deeds.

She sighed at her own stupidity and began to close the door when it caught on something. Lodged in between the creaky floorboards and the jagged bottom of the door, Tonks found a single envelope—thin and made of old, yellowing paper. Tonks feared it might crumble in her touch but after retrieving it, found the letter to be quite stable. Across the front in a familiar patchy lettering read her name—_Dora_. Realizing who this penmanship belonged to, Tonks again looked down the corridor, stepped into the middle of the hallway and looked. She called out Remus' name even, believing fully now that she had heard someone apparate out of the vicinity earlier on but confused as it why Remus was leaving her a letter.

Walking inside again, Tonks removed the letter from its envelope and was struck by something even before reading. The letter was perfect. Perfectly written. Perfectly symmetrical letters. It looked like a piece of art. All the words fit neatly their lines. There was nothing crossed out or blotted away. It looked as if it were a page torn from a book rather than a hand written letter. Even the signature at the bottom appeared forced—perfect, yes, but completely strained.

She finally looked beyond the letter's impeccable nature and began to read its content:

_Dora,_

_I wish I was the kind of person who could say this to your face. It's a cheap trick and a bit shady to write what I'm about to say in a letter but I ask you to forgive me. I'm not the kind of person who can say what I think and writing it even has proved very hard. _

_I have greatly enjoyed our time together. I have loved getting to know you and becoming your friend while working for the Order. It takes a bit of effort to write the word "friend". My life hasn't been one that's known very many friends as I'm sure you can understand why. The truth of the matter is that I haven't really had as much fun as I have had with you since my days at Hogwarts with James, Sirius and Peter. Since James and Lily's death, I haven't had much time or belief in companionship. But despite a war raging and everything, you find a way to allow me to have fun again. I hope you consider me a friend like I consider you one. _

_That being said, however, I believe there are lines that must be drawn. This coming week we have plans to attempt another try at Knockturn Alley but I'm afraid that will a single mission for you. I will be moving north towards Wales and trailing a group of underground werewolves. I have spoken with the Order and I feel this is a needed move. These wolves I seek are rather passive compared to many other groups I know of. They can be persuaded to join the Order if I go and so this is where I feel my place is. The Order needs them and so I will go. _

_I'm going also because there are lines that need to be drawn. This is an excellent opportunity for me to help the Order and attempt to put things back into focus. This is an excellent opportunity for me to put distance between myself and you. I'm afraid there are things I've let get out of control. I see you as a friend and respect our friendship but as of late, I have seen you as something else. I wish I was the kind of person who could say this to your face. You deserve to know that truth and you deserve to have it told to you in person. But one out of two isn't bad, huh? Dora, I need to put this distance between us because I believe I love you and I know it isn't like that between us. I have tried to put these feelings away somewhere but it seems my only chance of really getting rid of them is to remove all temptation. I'm sorry and I hope this won't affect our friendship. I hope you understand why I'm telling you this. There is a war going on and lying never helped anyone. I don't want you to think for a moment that I'm leaving because I don't think highly of you. It's because of that that I have to go. _

_Please keep safe and hopefully we'll see each other again._

Tonks looked around her dark flat. She pulled her wand again and lit it. She stared around, waiting for the band of people to jump out and surprise her. Waiting for someone to tell her this was a joke and it was all too hilarious. It was all too much. This was a joke.

She stared around and waited…and waited…and waited….


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Wonderful_

More often than not, she was a woman of action but in the time that followed, Tonks did little about the letter except consider it. She sat down on her couch and read it over and over again. She laid down to sleep and brought the perfect papers with her to bed. Over a few days they became worn because Tonks took them with her wherever she went. She kept them folded in a pocket and held onto them like they were worry stones. It seemed she was putting all this new found frustration into something physical—squeezing that letter. The hard, crisp paper became soft as it absorbed the sweat from her hands. Andromeda often visited now that her daughter was off on her own but Tonks found little need to tell her mother and even less comfort in the idea of Andromeda knowing.

A passionate and life loving woman, Andromeda was still quite soft. Early into her married life, not long after Tonks had been born, Andy had been attacked by none other than her sister, Bellatrix. It had been an assassination attempt both Andy and Ted assumed but at that time, Bellatrix was still all power but no precision. While the attack had been all too much of a failure on the one sister's part, it had left the younger one scarred for life. Andromeda would go on to believe she didn't have the physical strength to bear another child and would be constantly looking over her shoulder, carefully watching what was around the corner. She was quite paranoid actually—in ways Tonks was afraid to admit mirrored Moody. It was one thing to come home and tell her mother that she wanted to be an auror—this was completely different.

This was a man afraid of his own shadow. What was Andromeda supposed to do with that? To this wasn't just an older man but a werewolf. Tonks could picture the look on her mother's face and she might have laughed if she was not so angry at what she saw. There was Andromeda—up on her high horse, too afraid to ever dream of coming down. To Andromeda, the question of what Remus was rather than whom.

Days went on and there was little Tonks could do. She went back to work but didn't ever really hear Fudge barking at her. She didn't really see the reports that swept past her desk. She went on lunch break but never tasted a single thing. Her mind was elsewhere altogether. At the rare Order meeting, she searched in vain for Remus and at first, she thought she might feel relief at his absence as she still had no idea what to say in response to such a letter. After that short spell, she remembered again just where Remus was—out in the wilderness, cold and alone probably. Had the wolves accept him? Were they treating him decently? Remus often laughed that he was used to roughing it that didn't make the uneasiness Tonks felt go away. Wolves were a bitter group and their hostility didn't soften as the wizarding world continued to ostracize them. Wolves loved an outsider—an underdog to torture—and Remus looked that part perfectly.

It wasn't just the guilt that affected Tonks. There was a thick pain festering in the pit of her stomach now—a ball of heavy clay. It stayed up until all hours of the night, jumping, fidgeting and yelling as loud as it could. There was a heavy pain she felt each time she walked into headquarters as she suddenly found her once Remus-filled days to be completely void. She was wishing more than anything to walk into Grimmauld Place and see him standing there with that usual crooked smile.

_Damn Remus_, Tonks thought, _he's just a stupid git. He's off somewhere, standing over some rotting wound and still smiling over it, as if he were so unimportant. He's just a stupid git. So stupid!_

Molly stared with her mouth hanging open. She had actually stopped making dinner and was sitting at the kitchen table now. Genevieve began to wonder if she sat like that long enough, perhaps a bird would fly in and perch inside Molly's mouth. She wasn't about to complain though; Genevieve loved a captive audience.

"All of them…dead," she repeated herself, "One foul move. Just like that you see."

For the first time in the whole conversation, Molly spoke up and said, "_Please _don't tell this to Arthur."

Raising an eyebrow Genevieve said, "What? Is he into torture devices?"

"It's a blasted muggle contraption, isn't it? _Please._ Don't tell Arthur," her eyes fell on Kingsley who sat across the table, "_Please._ He'll want one."

"What would Arthur do with a guillotine?" the wizard laughed.

"_Please…_" Molly seemed to be demanding rather than pleading.

Genevieve merely snorted, "Something to look into, huh?" she bellowed, "I think it's an excellent idea. Get them when they're down and they think we're going to take them out properly with wands and what do we do? We chop their heads off!"

"Oh, yes, a wonderful idea," Kingsley rolled his eyes and then looked anxiously at Molly.

"That's disgusting," the mother barked, "Barbaric. You will not talk about such things when you sit at my table, Genevieve, you understand? Not a word."

She quickly tried to forget how enthralled she had just been over the idea—perhaps not enthralled but mesmerized. The ideas people were coming up with to kill other people with, Molly thought, was nothing short of vicious. And sad. The whole business was sad. Genevieve tried to explain that this _gilly-teen_ had been around for some time now but Molly would have none of it.

"If you're going to going to continue on like this, you can leave!" she finally yelled and the whole conversation died right there. Kingsley stared absentmindedly at the wall and Genevieve drove tiny holes into the back of Molly's head with her eyes. Most everyone was afraid these days to have a conversation with Molly on the weather let alone on guillotines.

There was nothing to do but move onto dinner.

It was a quiet evening. Few people could turn down a warm cooked meal especially one as good as Molly's but conversations these days at the Weasley house were usually nonexistent. Arthur looked up from his stew and saw all glum expressions sitting around his table. He attempted to bring up small talk, like the weather or the Quidditch season but each attempt took like a wet newspaper. Instead all there could really be done was to dunk his slab of bread into the soup again and eat up.

Moody of course wasn't there and the children were off to school. A plethora of declining invitations had come in so the party consisted of just a few members of the Order. Many would argue such a meeting was reckless. Too many of them in one place was an easy target for any Death Eater who knew what they were up to but many insisted on little excursions like these—something to keep them bonded, something to keep their spirits up. Even though at the moment, no one's spirits seemed to be anywhere near up.

Kingsley was beaming, attempting, like Arthur, to salvage any kind of discussion possible. But Genevieve was still sullen looking, Charlie was half asleep, the Boxwood sisters were throwing dirty looks at one another and even Tonks appeared less than thrilled to be there. Her hair was a rich golden color today—vibrant and bright but her expression was hidden as she only had eyes for her soup. She gave it all the attention she could muster and shifted awkwardly in her seat all the time. Remus had returned from his long absence but he too was completely detached. He sat at the farthest end of the table, occasionally making eye contact with Arthur but nothing more than that. It actually spooked everyone when Molly made a move to stand.

"Just getting dessert," she said to the terrified looks that shot at her.

The treacle was passed out and then again silence filled the tiny kitchen. The stillness seemed to go on forever until some kind of riot broke out spurred by the eldest Boxwood sister attempting to infiltrate Charlie's dessert. In a few minutes' time, Arthur and Kingsley were pulling a flailing Genevieve off of Charlie while simultaneously consoling a hysterical Molly. In the commotion of everything, no one noticed Remus grab his robe off the hook and exit out the door. He was just off the steps and heading towards the fields when a voice stopped him.

"You're a right foul git, you know that, right?"

The voice made him jump and had he been a foot closer to Tonks, he would have hit her. She must have apparated out of the house because no one could have moved that fast. She stood at the bottom step and was just smiling—a huge smile full of pity Remus thought.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, fixing his robes around him better.

"You're a right foul git I said," Tonks repeated herself, "And you're not leaving."

Remus forced his mouth into a smile, "This party is pretty much over I believe. I told Arthur I'd come for supper and I did."

"No. I mean you're not leaving to go chase after werewolves anymore," again her face was filled with that pity. Her smile was bright but her eyes were soft, as if tears were coming. Tears of sympathy for such a silly man. Remus could only shake his head at her commiseration and continue on his way.

"I mean it," Tonks called, following him now, "I won't let you put your life in danger like that. It's dangerous and if what you tell me is true about werewolves, there are no such things as passive ones…present company excluded."

"It's what needs to happen," Remus refused to meet her eyes. He couldn't stand the pity. All his life he had been handed that or spite. Spite or pity. The two feelings one feels for a werewolf. He never in a million years would want Tonks' spite but this sickening pity she was throwing at him was almost as worse.

"I'm so close to getting them on my side. Believe me. I can talk to them and I can bring them to our side," he spoke while fixating with his buttons unnecessarily, "I know I can. Please, just go back to the party, Tonks…"

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow, "You've gone back to Tonks?"

"I guess I have," he stared off at the fields surrounding the Weasley farm.

"Call me Dora," she said.

In one grim movement, Remus shook his head, still unable to look at her face, "I prefer Tonks I think."

This of course wasn't true. Being allowed to call her something so informal had been shocking to say the least. It had been a defining moment when he had noticed her—really noticed her. She wasn't just that young witch who came to the meetings and had a big mouth and that bizarre first name. She sat up and looked at him one night after a few fire whiskeys had been sampled and simply said, "Between you and me, I like the name _Dora_. I'd go by _Dora_ but Tonks sounds tough, huh?" and then she started laughing, "And I'm got a reputation to keep up." It was the lateness of the night and the fire whiskey. It was a mixture of things that made that statement as funny to Tonks and Remus as it was. After they had suppressed their laughter she looked at him and said, "Call me Dora then. Okay?" And he had ever since.

But not today.

"Sirius hates this idea," she said, "He told me. He has no idea where you are. It's like you've fallen off the face of the planet."

"I don't care what Sirius thinks," Remus said stiffly.

Tonks' smile grew wider, "You know that's not true. You care a lot about what he thinks. Please. At least don't go yet. Come back to the party with me."

He finally turned and looked her square in the eyes. As usual he wasn't ready for it and didn't station himself properly. Even after months of exposure to more people than he'd seen in years, Remus wasn't used to looking people in the eyes. He met her gaze with caution and only briefly, "I appreciate the nicety, Tonks, but please I can do without the pity."

"Pity?" she asked, "You…you think I pity you?"

For a moment he almost gave her a reason to pity him. He almost lashed out. Of course she pitied him. Of course she could feel nothing but sadness for this pathetic half of a man. Her motives were directed by sheer pity—unable to feel the same as he did but too soft to let the poor man just go. Of course she had to say something. She had to wipe his tears and pat him on the head, tell him how sweet he was and send him on his way.

Remus would have shouted at her if his mouth had no suddenly become busy with other things. He spun again to meet her eyes and found her body being thrown in his direction—arms wrapping around him, feet on their tiptoes and a mouth pressed hard up against his. All he could seem to do was stare wide eyed at the face so close to his. Her eyes were tightly shut as if she was dreaming and her golden hair bounced happily with every swish of her head. Remus swore it was turning white, a beautiful cream color and then stark white like the sun on a hot day.

She pulled her lips off of his but remained close and took in a few deep breaths. How long she had been kissing him he wasn't sure but judging by how out of breath she was, he could assume a while. His body was still a bit numb and his eyes were still focused on that white, white hair.

"What are you doing?" he finally managed to ask.

Her hands found his shoulders and she began running her hands up and down his arms, feeling them as if making sure he was still there, "I'm kissing you," she said after a while.

"Oh…" was all Remus could think of to say followed by a, "Why?"

Tonks' fingers wound their way up into his hair. Yes. That was still there too. She smiled, "Because I want to."

"Why?"

"No one has ever wanted to kiss you before?" she tried it again and lightly put her mouth to his before saying, "You're a right foul git. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"I didn't…I couldn't…I…" Remus fought desperately for words, "I just…what…_why are you kissing me_?"

She met his eyes and though he faltered a bit, she never looked away, "_Why didn't you just tell me_? You…you love me?"

The words didn't seem to want to come. His mouth got suddenly dry and nothing seemed to make sense. All Remus could do was nod his head and then he managed to say, "Yes…I believe so."

Again, Tonks repeated herself, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

When no answer came, she simply kissed him again, pulling him in closer to her and waiting for his body to calm down. He was still so tense—so afraid to let go. Maybe he thought he'd lose control if he didn't watch himself. He'd tear her apart in a fit of anger. Tonks pressed her face hard into his and within time he loosened up, allowing himself to mimic her. He twisted his arms around her waist and followed the movement of her mouth.

Coming up for air, he said quickly, "I can't…" as if it were a throw-away remark. He said he couldn't but Remus continued to kiss her and she in return refused to let go. But that ball of guilt that had lived inside Tonks was kicking inside Remus now and he pushed her away, flustering, ashamed of what he'd just done and hating this pity. This had to be the purest form of it. No one had remotely returned any romantic feelings in the past—why should this girl be different?

"Stop!" he called, "I'm…I'm…I'm a…do you know what I am?"

Tonks said the word so quickly and quietly that it was swallowed up by the wind. The wind came down and snatched it right out of her but that ball of agony inside her had been pushing her to say the words for weeks now and not even a hurricane was going to stop her. With her own air, Tonks screamed a word so loudly that no could no miss it, "Wonderful!"

To which Remus raised an eyebrow, asking, "What?"

That tight ball of clay was falling apart now, breaking off and turning into something beautiful—butterflies that were now filling Tonks' belly. Again, she yelled, "I know what you are, Remus. You're wonderful."

She brought her lips upon his again. That agony—now a mixture of a thousand beams of light and butterflies—was splintering off and seeping out of Tonks' mouth. And it kept saying "wonderful" over and over again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Muggle Artifacts_

There was something exquisite about a love affair kept secret. It had never been officially stated that no one would be told but still it became the unwritten rule. Remus returned from his long absence and was a regular figure at headquarters again—at least as much as he used to be. He still devoted a great deal of time to any menial task the Order needed but at least now Tonks knew he was safer than he was with the wolves. He'd show up at Grimmauld Place to chat with Sirius, get something to eat and then sleep. After that, he found himself at Tonks'.

Early in the morning one day he came calling. The day would be spent trailing and keeping tabs on a supposed Death Eater but after weeks of watching the old man, Remus knew he never started his day before seven. For a few hours now, Remus could be with his beloved. He let himself in as Tonks had given him the password for the flat and stumbled in the dark of the morning, afraid to light his wand and wake Tonks. Kicking off his shoes, he fumbled towards the bed and managed to slide in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her and just laid there for a while. It was all psychological but Remus swore that when she was in his arms like this, Tonks was smaller—she felt lithe and tiny lying there beside him. Remus compared his calloused hands and scarred skin to hers—clean and new—and felt he somehow came up short. But no matter how long he pressed that idea, she refused to accept it. She welcomed him, never pushed him away. And he was willing for the first time to accept such an invitation.

The darkness began to wane and soon Tonks was awake. Silently the two laid there for a while, knowing that soon someone would have to leave. Prompted by this fact, Tonks couldn't help but ask a silly question, "What are you thinking about?" she rolled over and looked at her silent partner, "You're always thinking. Always sitting there and thinking."

Smiling, Remus replied, "That's not so bad. It's a good thing to think. Too many people these days fail to do so."

"But _that_ much thinking?" Tonks laughed, "Thinking is for the birds!"

"Well, then humans are birds," Remus said, "And a poor example of them at that!"

Tonks reached up to feel his two day beard, "Of birds?" she asked, "Men are less than birds? What can birds do that man can't?"

"Fly away," Remus said sadly.

Tonks was unsure how to respond to such a thing. She knew Remus meant as a silly joke but like more satire, this one had its truth in it. For a moment, all she did was smirk before the words came, "But are birds really free? You ever watch a bird? Ever seen one at a bird feeder? He'll collect his seeds and eats and is all cute like but he's always looking around, always making sure something isn't watching him, ready to eat him. He can't settle down. You ever seen a bird like that?

You talk about bird and are all like, 'I want to be as free as a bird,' but birds aren't free. Not at all. A little boy kills a bird and no one thinks a thing of it. You kill a man and what happens? All hell breaks loose. I think birds are just as imprisoned as we are."

Stubbornly Remus repeated himself, "But birds can fly away."

"Where would you fly to?" Tonks continued to run her fingers through his stubble, looking unhappy.

Shrugging Remus said, "Italy? I hear it's lovely."

"You could always apparate there."

"Not the same, is it?" he smiled, "Flying is so romantic. Just drop everything and fly away," and with that Remus gave a small chuckle, "But you can't…you can't fly away from the moon."

"Not much use being a bird then?" Tonks grinned mirthlessly and kissed him once more—this time, pushing his mouth open and filling it with her taste.

Pulling away, Remus said, "Too much, dear."

"Too much?" she raised an eyebrow, still leaning over him.

"Too much. You forget. I'm a gentleman."

At that, Tonks laughed again, "Well of course you are but this _lady_ here is instigating said snogging," she bent down over him again and he allowed her wet kisses for a while before pulling away once more. 

"Gentleman," Remus reaffirmed himself before getting up.

Tonks pulled on his tie, trying to hold him at bay but one final kiss was all she got. A nice, dry, perfectly gentleman kiss. She had more to say, however, and wasn't going to leave him feeling as down as she sure he was.

"We just have to live within our constrictions. Like the birds do. Is what I mean. You know? Envy is ignorance and all the crap."

"Who said that?" Remus asked, sliding his shoes back on.

"Emerson? Keats? Shelley maybe. I have no idea," she was giggling now, "But the point is you can be happy. You have enough. You have people who love you. Who wants to be a bird anyway?"

After that she said, "I went shopping the other day. There's lots of foods, love, so please eat something. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Guthrie Blasamore was well off. He was poor by no means but not a millionaire either. He lived a life well enough to have slipped in and out of two marriages and still after alimony remain financially stable. Some years ago, when he had been a hefty fifty-six, Mr. Blasamore was able to retire after a long career in the publishing world. He had left Gillyweed Publishing as a giant success and looked forward to a lovely life at home with the occasional trip to the opera or maybe even a Quidditch game once in a while. He had earned the right to be a little frivolous and enjoy what little of life he had left.

And, Merlin's beard, it was his own goddamn business what he did with that time. If Mr. Blasamore wanted to go to the Ministry, walk about, catch up on local gossip and the like, there was no rule against it. He loved stopping into the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures more than anything because there was always some hoot who thought he'd get away with something. There was always some git who believed he could smuggle in Red Caps here or there, who thought that dragons were perfectly acceptable pets or other foul business. Mr. Blasamore adored watching the culprit brought to justice as he squirmed in his chair and tried to explain to the officer that he had no idea how those Cerberus pups got into his basement. The head of the department was an old friend of his and allowed such things so of course there was nothing wrong with him attending.

But _some_ liked to think there was something wrong with Mr. Blasamore's presence at the Ministry. That _someone _felt so strongly about that that the man had taken up trailing Mr. Blasamore at all hours of the day. Promptly in the morning, Mr. Blasamore could feel the fellow's eyes bearing into the back of his head. It took a great deal of time for him to finally spot his stalker but he had always known that _someone _was there—always watching him.

A fellow like that stood out to Mr. Blasamore because he was clearly not a part of the group that a man like Blasamore would socialize with. This unknown man was seen continually in shabby, ill fitting robes and shaggy tweed suits. He was down on his luck obviously and was probably looking to catch Mr. Blasmore when he was vulnerable—try to get some money off of the poor old man. But this old man was ready for the bastard. He kept his eye on the stranger and made sure the prat kept his distance.

Upon coming home that night, Blasamore figured the fellow would be waiting for him at his house. Usually the bastard followed Blasamore all the way up to his door but tonight he had left the route early—disappeared entirely. One could only be left with the assumption that such a man was ready for his ambush now and had found some way into Blasamore's own home. How? He wasn't sure but Blasamore did pull his wand at the ready as he entered the front door. It wasn't until he reached the kitchen that he met his man.

But it wasn't his man at all.

Someone was definitely seated at the kitchen table in the dark but as Blasamore turned on the lights, he found the stranger was not the man who had been trailing him all day. Or even a man at that.

A stout witch sat at the end of the table. Her hair was graying, pulled into a sloppy pony-tail and her eyes angry. She was smiling, though, and Mr. Blasamore was afraid for that.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Just a stranger," the woman replied, "Just a stranger. Wondered if I could get a cup of tea."

Mr. Blasamore pulled his wand to eye level and was surprised that the woman didn't flinch. Maybe he wasn't a witch. Maybe she didn't know what he was holding.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't hex you from here to kingdom come," he bellowed.

The threat was met by a hallow laughter as the woman pulled her hands out from her lap where they lay. Had Blasamore been a quick thinking man, he would have killed her right there but instead he allowed the game to be hers. It was then when her hands were in the light that he noticed what she was holding—some kind of strange contraption. It looked like a long, metal pipe attached to a handle of some kind. The woman even started stroking the pipe evilly.

"You're a dirty, rotten man," she said, "You know that, don't you?"

"What do you want?" Blasamore demanded, "I'm warning you! You tell me what you want or I will kill you right now! I will call the aurors! I swear I will!"

But the woman merely continued to stroke the pipe, "Well, which are you going to do? Kill me or contact the aurors? Not a very clear idea of what you've got planned, huh? You need a clear idea," she followed her prey's eyes as they landed for too long on her weapon. "Ever seen one of these?" she asked, holding the thing up in air.

"Now you stop right there!" Mr. Blasamore tried to say.

"It's called a gun. A muggle contraption. But you don't know anything about muggle contraptions, do you?" it was then that the woman aimed the tip of the pipe square at Blasamore, "Don't know a thing, do you? You filthy Death Eater."

Blasamore could barely get out, "I'm not…I'm not a…not a Death-" before a shot was fired and he found himself on the floor of his kitchen, a hole through his chest and a puddle of blood slowly forming.

He wasn't quite dead but Genevieve knew he would be in time. She took his wand for good measure and disapparated.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Wolf in Disguise_

Someone will stand there and tell someone else that it's not enough to find someone wonderful.

That same someone once said that it takes more than love to make a relationship work. Tonks believed fully that that person is full of shit. That person would stand there and say, "You need respect!" Tonks would argue back that with love comes respect. Perhaps with lust does not necessarily come respect but you could bet your money that if you loved someone you looked up to them and thought they were wonderful. As Tonks thought of Remus. He was awkward and funny and sweet and a wonderful duelist but a horrible dancer. He thought about things too much and rarely spoke about himself. He was far too honorable and would probably have lost his life in its name countless times over had it not been for people like Sirius or friendly strangers pulling him back from the edge. He was slow to talk but quick to action. And he had blue eyes.

Someone else once said that eyes are the windows to the soul.

Remus, Tonks knew, had a strong dislike about looking people in the eyes but if you had a picture of him or caught his face just right, you could see his eyes. Dark blue. Beautiful blue. Like a summer night when you sit out by the fire place and look at the stars. Tonks loved to talk about them like this. Like his eyes were poetry or something.

The same bitter person mentioned before would shake their finger at Tonks and say that people need to get to know each other before they enter into any kind of relationship. This is true but sometimes someone knows someone else without knowing that they know them.

Tonks had to run home one day back during the summer. Her mother was sick and Tonks had to run some herbs Molly had home along with a strong pot of some kind of chowder. After this errand, Tonks and Remus would be on their way to Knockturn Alley for more Order-fied snooping. She had begged him to stay and wait at Headquarters but Remus had insisted for time's sake, he better tag along.

Another someone had said that misery loves company. And Tonks was sure the moment Remus walked in the door the house began to fall apart and Andromeda's flu took a turn for the worst—as if her mother was desperate to make a poor impression upon any friend that Tonks brought home. Andromeda roamed about the house, making tea for herself and complaining about everything she came into contact with. The house was too messy. Her head felt light. The medicines she had bought in town weren't working and she would _never _be returning there again. Where was Ted? Why wasn't he there? Why did it feel like she was merely moving one pile of junk from one spot to another? Why was the house so stuffy? Why did she bother making lunch when nothing satisfied her at this point? Why were there never tissues when she needed them? Why?

Meanwhile Remus stood in the living room, smiling nervously and waiting patiently and Tonks followed her mother around with a half hearted smile, trying to soothe all of Andromeda's problems and get her back into bed. She stuck by her mother's side for a half hour as Andromeda barked and complained about a whole range of things. She smiled gracefully and escorted her back upstairs.

Tonks thought Remus would think it far too rude to discuss such a dysfunctional family apart from the usual "I'm so sorry" and "It's fine" routine. But to her great surprise as they walked down Diagon Alley, Remus turned to her and said, "I learned a lot about you today."

"…from my mother?" Tonks asked apprehensively.

He laughed, "Mind if I say something a little…a little odd?"

She shook her head and it became obvious that Remus was trying not to meet her gaze when he said, "I know why you're so unhappy, Dora."

"I'm unhappy?" Tonks chuckled.

Nodding Remus said, "A bit. You try so hard to make your mother happy. I think…I think you try to make a lot of people happy."

Tonks raised an eyebrow, "Well, you should talk."

Remus still wasn't looking at her; instead he stared at the ground, "Yes but I make people happy by trying not to be a bad person. You try to make people happy by trying to be a great person. You're always laughing…always joking…as if nothing matters. Easy going. I guess everyone is so worn down and heavy that you think you have to be the light and happy one. You think you have to make everyone happy."

It wasn't something she had thought a great deal about. In fact, Tonks didn't know if she had ever thought about such a thing. It seemed strange then that something so frivolous and unnoticed before suddenly became so earth shattering. Tonks felt like she was naked—as if everything was open and even though Remus was busying himself with a rock on the ground, he could see everything about her.

It was nearly March so the sun stubbornly refused to rise as early as this. It crept slowly at times—peaking over the horizon and teasing all with a wink or a smile before quickly hiding behind fog or clouds. Sirius, however, welcomed such a gray morning. Spring was not to be greeted friendly by him for it meant people, people everywhere out and shedding their winter coats, happy to be free from a life cooped up inside or braving harsh conditions. When people were around, Sirius was to be out of sight—more so than usual that is.

Winter (while still harsh) was a bit easier for a dog with thick fur and worn in paws. Everyone in the Order would lash out at Sirius if they knew that he occasionally took a stroll outside. Ever since dropping the kids off at the train, he hadn't gone out into such hordes of people but still when the boredom of life inside Headquarters got to him and the weather looked bad enough to keep prying a home, Sirius loved to slip out and roam. Years apart from a good time and the means of having had deprived Remus of his sense of spontaneity. Sirius had tried once suggesting that some full moon the two should go and relive their days of Hogwarts. Remus shook his head and said as long as Sirius was a convict, it was just too dangerous. So now here sat Sirius, alone and watching the sun attempting to wake up. And of course he was feeling surly.

But Sirius wasn't _really _alone in the kitchen. Kreacher was in his usual foul mood—storming about the house and spouting offensive words under his breath. Sirius would have spoken up against this but it gave him good reason to use his newly found sling shot. He wasn't allowed to go outside to find any rocks so loose nuts found in the kitchen or the stray button fallen from some coat would have to work. Even though Remus said he disliked the use of the thing, Sirius swore that he often caught a smile from his friend whenever a good slap to the back of the head was made. It seemed too strange and suspicious a thing to Sirius that even after Kreacher relentlessly called Remus a "dirty werewolf" that the poor man could still speak up against any torture on the house elf. Tonight, though, Remus was up in his room so Sirius had full reign to do to Kreacher what he wished.

"Move a little to the left!" he called out just before flinging an acorn at Kreacher's forehead.

The elf recoiled and continued to mutter a nasty four letter word. He moved enough to cause Sirius' acorn miss to which caused the wizard to let out his own swear and allowed Kreacher enough time to scurry away, back to his hole in the wall. And thus Sirius was left alone again.

He contemplated bothering Remus. The man never slept so why was Sirius to believe he was now? Of course he retired up to his room, shut the door and remained in there for hours on end but on the off chance that Sirius would feel _so_ bored that he would randomly burst into Remus' room uninvited, he was _never _sleeping. It didn't matter what time of day or night it was. Remus would be pacing the floor or sitting at his desk, mulling over deep things. He would read. He might even pull out a deck of muggle playing cards and nervously play a game or two. But Remus _never_ slept. Sirius was sure of that. And the man's worn out appearance only further proved this fact. Remus was a man who was always warn out but never sleepy and Sirius just didn't understand it.

He tossed about the pros and cons of bursting in on Remus. As light hearted and friendly as he liked to be, Remus could have a temper when provoked enough and being as this would be the fifth time this week Sirius invited himself in, that didn't seem like an impossibility for tonight. But perhaps hearing Remus bitch and moan would be at least something to do—maybe it would be better than this sitting around. Maybe the fool would settle down and talk to Sirius—a good talk, a manly talk. They could talk about manly things and maybe Sirius could figure out where his friend had been spending so much time the last week or so.

In the end, he decided against startling Remus, rolled his eyes and thought about tired Remus had been looking. It would probably be best to leave the poor fellow alone. Keep the house quiet. Let him (maybe for once) sleep.

But Sirius' new found desire for quietness didn't stop the fire place from bursting into a mess of green flames. In the dead of night when one suddenly wanted things to remain calm, the Floo system seemed unnaturally loud. Moody stepped through the flames, gave Sirius a gruff look and merely spat, "Where's Lupin?"

"Evening to you too," Sirius replied, "…or morning I should say. What time _is_ it?"

"Where's Lupin?" Moody huffed again.

"Up in his room," and with that Moody turned and headed towards the stair case. Sirius was hot on his tail, "What is it? Mad-Eye? Come now! You can at least tell me what this is about!"

It was one thing for Sirius to bother Remus. He was Sirius' friend to pick on and terrorize but Moody was a completely different story. Sirius wound his way up the stairs to the third level of the house when Moody finally turned on him and said, "What room?"

"Won't tell you until you tell me what's wrong," Sirius called, catching up the man. For having an artificial leg, Moody sure could travel, "You can't just barge into my house-"

"This isn't your house!" Moody yelled, "This is headquarters! Now tell me what room he's in!"

When Sirius refused to give an answer, Moody began crashing through each room on the third and second floor until he came upon the right one. Remus (of course) wasn't asleep but he was in bed—sitting up with a pile of books and some maps sprawled out around him. Even though he was clearly awake Moody still found it necessary to lift the bed up on one side, thus spilling Remus onto the floor.

"I'm telling you, man!" Sirius was yelling, "What in God's name is wrong?"

Moody scurried to the other side of the bed and grabbed Remus by the shirt before he spat out, "Want to tell me why Blasamore is _dead_?"

There was a moment of silence while Remus stared at him confused, "Wha…what?"

Moody gave him a good shake, "Why is Blasamore dead, Lupin! He was found dead just a half hour ago! What did you do? _What did you do?_" He continued to shake Remus.

"I didn't…I didn't do anything!"

Sirius jumped in there and pulled Moody's beefy hands off of his friend before rounding on the old wizard, "You stop this shit now! I'm telling you! You can't just come into this goddamn house and terrorize us!" Sirius even drew his wand on Moody who in return drew his, much quicker though.

"Don't give me a reason to, Black!" he yelled, "Blasamore is dead and Lupin's been trailing him for days now! What am I supposed to think? He was found dead in his kitchen! A whole in his chest and aurors are all over the place!"

"So Remus did it?" Sirius screamed.

"Get your damn wand out of my face!" said Moody as he hit Sirius' hand away. He took a breath and his outburst seemed somewhat cooled as he turned again to Remus, "You knew Blasamore like no one else. You knew what he was up to."

Remus shook his head, "I told you. I told Kingsley. I don't think he was a Death Eater. I really don't. He liked to cheat at the races and wasn't the most honest man but he wasn't…I don't think he was-"

"Did you kill him?" Moody cut him off.

"No," Remus said sternly.

"You had your reasons to," Moody pushed on.

Still shaking his head, Remus again said simply, "No. I didn't kill him."

Sirius threw his hands in the air, "There. You see? No need to bully us all."

But Moody was still staring intently at Remus, as if his magical eye was attempting to see into Remus' brain. He spoke again, "He hunted werewolves."

Still Remus nodded, "I know."

"He did what?" Sirius looked to his old friend, "You never told me. You've been stalking this guy for almost a week now and you didn't think to mention that-"

"—that he's got six wolf heads hanging on his living room wall?" Moody finished, "You had your reasons to kill him, Lupin."

"But I didn't kill him," Remus seemed to shriek.

He looked to Sirius for support who nodded and then addressed Moody, "How was he killed?"

Although still unsatisfied Moody said, "Something fired into his chest. Probably used a projecting charm," his attentions went back to Remus, "I'll have you know the Ministry is going to pin this all over Sirius. You know that, right? Paint Blasamore out to be some saint and put the most wanted escape convict of all time behind his murder-"

Sirius chuckled at this, "You flatter me, Mad-Eye, but you forget the mass break-out that happened a few weeks ago. My dear cousin is now the most wanted escaped convict of all time."

"You had your reason to kill him is what I'm saying!" Moody went on to Remus, "And if you did it and you're not telling me-"

"But I didn't do it!" Remus roared, "I left Blasamore's trail at six today! I didn't touch him!"

Moody leaned in towards Remus' face without ever blinking, "This is an innocent man that's dead, Lupin. Are you telling me everything I need to know?"

Again, Sirius laughed, "Innocent? Of what? He's off hunting wolves and doing all kind of other horrible things. Why are you so bent out of shape over this?"

Without taking his eyes off Remus, the old auror said, "I am not afraid to send Lupin to Azkaban. If he's killed an innocent man—innocent of being a Death Eater. Don't think I won't. The Order couldn't lose you but I won't have a hexing murderer on-"

"Enough!" Sirius barked, putting an end to it all. He pushed Moody out of the house and ushered him back into the hallway, "There is a man who has been murdered and you're chasing the wrong person! Get out! Get out of here!" Sirius herded the fighting Moody all the way down the stairs and back into the fire place. He yelled, screamed and wouldn't let the old codger get a word in.

Still even after Moody had left in a flash of green smoke Sirius did sit himself down at the table again and gave Remus a good look. He was smiling when he asked, "Did you? Did you kill him?"

Flustered Remus shook his head heavily, "No! I said I didn't do it!"

"I believe you!" Sirius shot back, "I just thought I'd ask. I just wanted to be sure. I wasn't gonna say anything in front of Moody but…but the guy _really_ hunts werewolves?"

The subject was a difficult one. Remus had at one point found himself in Blasamore's living room—unwelcomed and hidden. He had snuck in and was digging through a few precious and sensitive papers hidden in the man's desk drawer. And there on the wall were twelve eyes looking down at Remus—twelve very dead eyes. No matter how hard Blasamore had tried to pain up or gloss over those orbs, they were still lifeless and pale. A charm was used to keep the head frozen and unable to decay so all a hunter had to do was slice just above the shoulders, conjure the undecaying charm and then use a sticking spell to keep the head stuck to its board. A small plaque sat beneath the throat that showed off a date—the date of the hunt.

Remus' eyes couldn't meet Sirius', "You know the body of a wolf doesn't change back if it's been killed while transformed. You get killed a wolf and you stay forever a wolf," he turned back towards the stairs, on his way up to bed again, "But no, Sirius. I didn't kill him."

He didn't sleep all that much after that fiasco. Not sure of what to do, Remus simply got dressed and disapparated.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Birds, Dogs, Stones and Pancakes_

Tonks was awake and making breakfast when Remus got there. A few trace bits of lights were peeking out from the window but it wasn't enough to completely illuminate Tonks' tiny flat. She had a few enchanted candles sitting about. They were an odd sight as they bobbed up and down in midair but what really caught Remus' attention as he watched her flipping pancakes was a small machine on the counter. He stared at it for a while before asking, "What is that?"

"A coffee pot," Tonks answered, "A muggle machine."

After looking it over and even pulling the pot from its cave, Remus chuckled, "Makes coffee all by itself? Interesting."

"I thought coffee was just a muggle thing. How do you know what coffee is?"

There were things—even now in the midst of a love affair—that Remus didn't speak of. His family was one of them. Anna and John Lupin. That was all she had gotten out of him. But whether they were muggle born or pure blood or octopi, Tonks had no idea. She looked eagerly at her beloved, hoping maybe this would stir about a conversation.

But to her dismay, Remus merely shrugged and said, "I know plenty of wizards who drink coffee."

Still smiling though, Tonks handed Remus a plate of pancakes and asked, "Jelly or syrup?"

The two sat around then, talking about nothing in particular—jelly mostly—and eating their breakfast. The talk was light and disturbed by lots of chewing. Tonks was up early because she had work. Remus was up early because he couldn't sleep. Tonks liked raspberry jelly most while Remus was quite prone to orange or grape. Of course then jelly turned into pie and Remus went on about a horrible strawberry and rhubarb pie he had eaten once. Sometime while busy looking for work years ago, he came upon a baker who was selling slices for a mere knut a slice. Upon buying some, however, Remus learned why the price was so small and the slice he received was so large. The baker and his wife were desperate to get rid of the thing after some slip up had occurred, leaving the pie more tart than sweet and the crust more of a mush than flaky. At that point in time Remus thought it had been a waste of a knut but the older he got and the more he looked back on that damned pie, he remembered how down on his luck he had been at that point in time and while the pie had been hard to swallow, it had filled his stomach. That of course brought Tonks to stories about Andromeda's many early attempts in the kitchen. Perhaps it was the Hufflepuff in her father, but Ted had always been more of a cook than his wife—at least early on. By now, she was as good of a chef as she was a healer but Tonks sure did have stories about burnt Sheppard's pie and their house nearly going down in flames.

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, your apartment isn't on fire," Remus smiled, handing his empty plate to Tonks, "And the pancakes were neither soggy nor tart."

"I hope you'll say the same about dessert," Tonks said as she retreated back to the stove.

Grinning Remus said, "Pancakes fill a person up. I couldn't eat another bite, Dora."

Tonks pulled a dish towel out of the drawer and with it removed the cover from a pot on the stove. Steam began to rise in dark blue circles. "This isn't for eating," she said as she ladled a helping of the steaming drink into a coffee mug and turned back to Remus, "You're going to have to let me know how it is."

Remus was surprised he hadn't smelt it before. Seeing the steam rise now from the mug Tonks held, he said, "I…what is…is that…Wolfsbane?"

Tonks nodded, "I've been trying to get it right for months now. Molly helped me…a lot. Even when you were gone, she tried to work on it. And we…I'd…I'd take it up to Hogwarts and have Snape look it over and this is the first batch he said was…" she laughed a little to herself, "…this was the first batch he said was 'decent' as he put it," Remus was staring at the cup as if he'd never seen Wolfsbane potion before. Tonks bit her lip, "I hope…I hope it's okay. It's good to start today. You have a week starting today until the full moon. I just thought…I hope it's okay…"

Still mesmerized by the cup Remus walked forward and wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic. Staring down, he knew this was real. This was Wolfsbane potion. It smelled like it. It looked like it. This was the thing—that saving grace—he hadn't seen since he left Hogwarts nearly two years ago. Awful at potions himself and too poor to have ever afforded the ingredients, he had succumbed to full moons sans his senses and hoping he wouldn't kill something this time. Sirius joining in seemed to Remus out of the question, considering Sirius' criminal status and the fact that the Malfoy's knew clearly what the black dog looked like. This coffee mug in Remus' hands was literally a god sent.

He considered downing it right there but instead set it aside on the table and went for Tonks. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. For a moment, she stood there in his grip, afraid as if she had offended him but still confused as to why he was hugging her if that were the case. She simply tightened her hold on him as well and said, "I hope…I hope it tastes okay."

"It will taste god awful!" Remus snickered, "It will taste god awful!" he gave her another tight squeeze before pulling away to stare her directly in the eyes without ever wavering, "This is the single sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me."

Smiling weakly Tonks said, "Oh…well…that's….that's okay. You're welcome."

Remus pulled her in again and for a long time refused to let go, "The single sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."

"Well Molly helped…and…and Snape did too."

He broke away and kissed her, "Thank you. Thank you."

Still pressed against him, Tonks smiled, "I hoped…I mean…I'm sure Sirius has been helping you…but I thought…I could…I thought I could help. You know? With the full moon? I'd like to help. I could be out there with a fresh change of clothes or a blanket or something. I thought…I thought I could help!"

Remus didn't want to answer this request so he just gave her a few more pecks and continued to thank her. He pulled back and grabbed the mug again before raising it into the air, cheering to his beloved's good health and drinking the potion quickly. Dancing in anticipation Tonks dared to ask, "Well? How did it taste?"

"God awful. As I told you it would," he was smiling but only briefly. A pang of guilt suddenly hit him and he decided with certainty that she needed to know, "I need to tell you something," he put the mug aside.

"What? What is it?"

Without much thought to it Remus blurted out, "Blasamore is dead. He was murdered last night."

Silence filled the room as Tonks took in his words. She actually stood there for a good minute that was broken only by Remus saying, "Well, say something!"

"I…um…yes!" she stammered, "That's…the man you've been following? Right?"

Remus nodded, "And he was murdered last night."

"You spent all day watching him, Remus," Tonks continued on, "Did you see anything?"

His eyes narrowed, "You're not going to ask if I killed him?"

Flustered Tonks said, "But…you…uh…didn't kill him. No. You didn't kill him. Did you?"

He shook his head, "But Moody showed up at Headquarters this morning. He was pretty sure I had done it. I suppose he has a reason to think that. But I didn't. I didn't touch Blasamore."

Tonks pulled him to the living area and set him in her lone arm chair while she sat on the ottoman in front of him, "How was he murdered?"

"Something fired into his chest. Moody is thinking it was a projecting charm."

"Or a gun," Tonks said flatly.

Again Remus gave her an odd look, "That muggle weapon?"

"Yep. Oh, I bet Moody was a real ray of sunshine. Comes bursting in and I bet he was swearing up a storm and everything. I'll be hearing about it when I go into work. Where was he when he was attacked? At home? They might make do field work."

These words caught Remus' attention, "Field work? Like you'll go the scene of the crime?"

"Yes. Look for evidence and such."

Twelve colorless wolf eyes were suddenly staring at Remus, "I don't think you should go," he said, "You don't…I'll bet it was pretty bad. Blood all over the place."

"They will have removed the body already," Tonks said, "And blood comes with the territory. I've seen enough of it."

"I still…" he tried to shake the eyes and the thoughts of what Tonks might say if she saw those dead wolves out of his mind. Still he pressed on, "I still don't think you'll like it. Let's say the culprit used a gun. That's a lot of blood. You're still new. You might not be ready for it."

One head was small and Remus had wondered why Blasamore had bothered hanging it up. It certainly was nothing to boast over when put next to his other game. Perhaps Blasamore thought even a tiny werewolf was still a hard hide to come by. Perhaps it had been his first and held personal value to him. He had been young and was terrified—out in the full moon by himself with nothing but a gun and a sling of silver bullets. Did Blasamore aim for the heart? Did he make it a quick kill or was he prone to watching said vermin die? Surely he didn't aim for the head as to ruin his trophy. What did he do with the rest of the body? Could one process werewolf meat to eat? Did people do such things? Did it never occur to Blasamore that that was in a sense cannibalism? Of course not. Never. Would he have hunted a wolf even if it hadn't been a full moon? Could Remus expect someone trailing him like he had trailed Blasamore—hoping to stamp his head up on a wall and possibly eat his body?

Far away someone was talking to him.

"Remus? Are you alright?"

His hands were clamped over his knees and his face felt like it was boiling. He looked up at Tonks, making eye contact again and nodded.

"You look…are you sure?"

Again he nodded, "I don't think you should go. On field work."

"Remus, I have to. If they tell me that's where I'm needed. That's where I go," she reached out and took his sweaty hand, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Well, then maybe you should tell everyone at work you're sick today," he pushed, "Can't come in."

A small smile blossomed on Tonks' face, "Whatever for? Why?"

His eyes were pleading now, "I'll tell you. We'll talk if you just…send an owl in or something."

"Remus, why? Tell me now. What's wrong?"

Breathlessly he muttered something inaudible before attempting to say the words again, "He hunts werewolves, Dora. He had six hanging on his wall. I…I've seen them…six heads I mean. Mounted and everything…I mean…I just…"

It wasn't until Remus felt Tonks' hand enclose his tighter that he realized how hard it suddenly was for him to breathe. All that seemed to be going through his mind were those eyes and a headless body lying off somewhere. What did people think when they stumbled upon the body of a headless werewolf? Did animals eat the carcass or were they like humans and thought the meat too diseased to be eaten? Remus could lose his mind one full moon and in the process stumble upon some hunter who'd take his head. What other werewolves wondered off into the moonlight and never came back? And what if a friend of theirs happened to find their head stuck up somewhere? It was all too unfair and unjust and terrorizing. Remus had spent years afraid of what he would do to others but now for the first real time he was terrified of what man could do to him.

Tonks' hands gripped his forearms as she attempted to pull him back to reality, calling, "Remus. It's okay. Breathe. It's alright. You're here. They're not going to hurt you."

He found himself clutching her arms tighter than he wanted to. He would apologize but at that moment Tonks was the only part of the room not spinning or staring down at him from its wood finished plaques. Tiny gold plates just below the neck that read off a date. The date of the kill. There seemed nothing else to dom, with the room spinning and Tonks holding him down, but cry. Hang his head and sob silently. Suddenly relinquish his grip on Tonks' arms and bury his face in his hands.

Tonks was awkward, for the first time seeing Remus cry and did nothing but put a hand on his leg and rub comfortingly. After a few dry sobs, she pressed her face against the top of his head and whispered, "I won't let him hurt you. We won't let him get you."

Remus shot a heated look at her, "Of course you won't! He's dead!"

"The others I meant!" Tonks retreated back to simply rubbing his leg, "I meant…I don't know…I just…" she faded into the silence again and just let Remus cry.

It wasn't long before he had controlled himself enough to apologize.

"Oh shut up!" Tonks laughed sadly, "I'm so sorry…about…that's just horrible…aren't there…there aren't any _laws_ or anything?"

He shook his head.

"But that's a human being they're hunting!"

Wiping his nose on his sleeve Remus said, "Not during the full moon. They're…we're…an animal."

Tonks jumped up and retrieved a box of tissues for Remus who again apologized, "I mean…for yelling at you…"

"I don't care," she grinned, "You need to cry more. You need to yell more. Don't bottle things up," she took his hands in hers again and shook her head in sorrow, "It's just…that's horrible. That's…I mean _what_?" Tonks now rubbed his hands and kissed them, "What the hell?"

"I'm sorry…" Remus said again.

At which Tonks now threw him a heated look, "You stop that or I'll stick my tongue in your mouth and there's nothing your bloody gentleman like ways can do to stop me!"

That at least got a small smile on his face.

Tonks was still tracing his fingers gently when she said, "I'm going into work today. But we're gonna do shit. You hear me? We're gonna do shit and we'll change some things." He looked unimpressed but Tonks kissed him and promised again, "We are going to do something."

"As soon as we're done bringing down the darkest wizard in history?" Remus asked.

Standing to retrieve her wand from where it laid on the coffee table, Tonks said, "Who said we can't kill two birds with one stone?"

"Again…with the birds!" he watched her disappear into the bathroom and quickly brush her teeth before sliding her boots on and grabbing her coat, "So many bird metaphors."

Without missing a beat, Tonks swung down for one last peck on the cheek and said, "I'll be gone most of the day. Stay here. You're more than welcomed to."

"There are other things I could be doing-"

"Like sleeping!" she crooned, "You could do with some sleep, dear."

Nodding, Remus remembered the ceramic mug and the potion. He then felt even worse for yelling at her. "I love you," he said, the faint look of tears still on his face.

Turning from the door Tonks said, "I love you too," and then promised again, "Shit. We're going to get shit done, Remus."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Of Lions_

It was worse than she thought it would be though. The blood had dried and now was stained onto the kitchen tiles, marking a perfect pool where the body had once laid. Tonks could only stare at it. Did people actually have that much blood in them? It was hard to imagine a death quite like this one and Tonks found herself wondering if Blasamore had been fully conscious when his head smacked the floor. The last thing he saw in this mortal world was the cream colored ceiling. Had he been alone or had the culprit staying long enough to watch the light leave his prey's eyes? Blasamore's wand was nowhere to be found so the aurors were only left to assume that the culprit had taken it.

"Maybe the criminal did it with Blasamore's wand and was afraid we'd check it," Gallian, another wizard on duty, proposed.

"More likely that he didn't want to leave Blasamore means of calling for help or hexing him," Scrimgeour took another look around the kitchen before moving onto the living room.

Tonks was still apprehensive to enter in there but felt sick if she looked at the red on the floor much longer. Turning her eyes to the upper cupboards she joked, "Let's remember that it could be a woman we're dealing with!"

Her joke went unnoticed by the men who followed Scrimgeour into the living room. A fleet of them went upstairs as well and Tonks wondered if tagging along with them would be best. She waited in the kitchen, hoping maybe someone would say something about the heads. Maybe someone would remark about how odd that was, how cruel to have werewolf heads stuck up on your wall. Surely someone else besides Tonks had never heard of such a thing. Scrimgeour could be humorless and strict but surely he wasn't heartless. Wolves were a dangerous group and when put together, potentially nasty, but to consider them a breed that needed to be wiped out was vindictive. It ranked right up there with racism or crazy pure blood ideas. Surely someone would look at the wolf heads and see the head of a muggle born hung up there instead of simply game. Tonks waited for such a remark to sound but none came.

When she finally entered the living room, she found Scrimgeour and the rest digging about in drawers, levitating things with their wands as not to touch them. All eyes were on the carpeting, the finely finished woodwork, the intricate stain glass windows or the vintage desk drawers. No one looked up. No one seemed to notice the wolf heads. But Tonks did. In actuality she had never seen a werewolf before. In books of course but not in real life. And even in books, people were far too scared to take a picture of a werewolf unless the thing was a skinned hide. Everything was captured by drawings. Now there were six wolves looking down at Tonks with what appeared such vitality that she feared they might actually jump from their perches and walk about the room.

_But with what legs?_ Tonks thought.

Three of the six were rather shaggy looking, unkempt and dingy manes—much like an actual wolf would look like. The others were short haired and appeared somewhat anemic, one especially—the smallest one. He was tiny next to his counterparts and seemed to stare with fear more so than anger.

Tonks stared around and still no one was paying the wolves any attention. "Doesn't that bother you?" she asked.

"What?" Scrimgeour asked, not looking up from examining a handsome set of China Blasamore had assembled in a cabinet.

"Those heads!" Tonks pointed at the wolves, unable to look at them anymore.

An auror by the name of Knobel followed Tonks' finger, "He was a hunter. Some kind of wild dog, huh?"

Most of the wizards now had looked up at the heads but showed little interest in them. "They're not dogs!" Tonks yelled, "They're werewolves!"

Knobel blinked a few times before turning his head slightly to the right, examining the heads, "Are they? Never seen one before."

"Tonks, Bowey and the others are up stairs," Scrimgeour said calmly, "Go up and see if they need anything."

"But I just-"

"I will not tell you again," the head auror said suddenly with a harsh amount of bite behind his voice, "Go and see if Bowey needs you. Or you can take yourself back to your cubical. I'm sure there's plenty of paperwork for you to do."

"Those are-"

"I'm not here to discuss what they are or aren't, Tonks," now Scrimgeour didn't even bother looking in her direction. He turned back to his work, examining the scene and poking things with his wand, "Keep your mind on the task at hand."

Not wanting to look at those heads any more but refusing to meet Scrimgeour's patronizing demand, Tonks headed back to the kitchen, danced around the pool of dried blood and found herself against the back wall, staring at the crime scene in full view. She crossed her arms and sulked for a second or two. In the living room the sounds of the other aurors was heard but few of them spoke about evidence, let alone Blasamore's hunting trophies.

Tonks' mind began to wander and she found herself staring out the window, still a bit enraged, when she heard footsteps into the kitchen. Scrimgeour had entered and was pointing to the patio door off the kitchen. "Outside," he said and briskly let himself out onto the patio. Once Tonks was out there as well, he ordered her to shut the door behind her.

"Don't think for a moment I'm ignorant," Scrimgeour said without missing a beat, "I knew it would be a conflict of interest bringing you along on this case but I was willing to let you surprise me."

"Conflict of interest?" Tonks wondered.

"Tonks, you can't parade across creation with a werewolf and not have people assume there is some kind of personal relations going on," he almost sounded like he was laughing.

The words threw Tonks off, "Per…personal relationship? What are you talking about?" without thinking, she almost confirmed what was going on with Remus—if it was Remus Scrimgeour was talking about. Without even thinking about it, Tonks nearly blurt out, "Who told you?" Able to keep at least that safe, Tonks had the mind to say nothing more.

"A friendship…at least…" Scrimgeour assured her, "I don't know his name but I've seen his mug."

"His _mug_?"

"Known werewolves are on file to keep track of them. We have files of many of them with their mug shots and where they are at least believed to be living. Well, surely you know," he said, noticing Tonks' confused expression, "that under the new decree werewolves are put under the supervision of the Auror Office instead of Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Dark Magic and all-"

"Werewolves are not dark magic!" Tonks spat.

Scrimgeour held up his hand to stop her further, "Conflict of interest. I knew it."

"This isn't a conflict of interest."

The thick head of hair made to look like a mane and all only made Scrimgeour look perfectly terrifying and livid, "I need to know you are going to help me find this man's murderer. Yes, he was a known werewolf hunter. Do I still have you on board to bring justice, Tonks?"

She stared at him, uneasy.

"Do I have your word?" he went on, "Even if it meant bringing your friend in?"

"What?" Tonks jumped.

"He had a reason to kill Blasamore. Werewolf hunter and all."

"So did every other werewolf if that's what you're basing it on!" Tonks was yelling now, "What proof do you have that he could be remotely involved? He's just one wolf in a sea of what, thousands?"

"But he's a wolf I have connections to," Scrimgeour said, almost sweetly—like it was a thing he had only dreamed of. A wolf within his reach. "Werewolves are hard to keep track of, Tonks. Nomads mostly. Only the ones that attempt to ease into society are on file. The ones that don't change their names regularly. The ones that try to hold jobs. The ones that think they have friends-"

Shaking with anger, Tonks shouted, "He _is _my friend!"

And calmly Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes and said, "Exactly. Werewolves are hard to hunt. Dangerous and only legally game when it's a full moon. Blasamore had six and was well regarded for said hunting skills. To make matters even clearer for you, Tonks, we believe completely that Mr. Blasamore was killed by use of a fire arm. A gun. Exactly what people think you use to kill a werewolf. Of course, now you see, a simple projection charm used on a silver bullet will bring a wolf down. No need for a gun. But someone as simple as your friend wouldn't know that, would he?"

"Simple?"

"If he told you he attended Hogwarts or any school for that matter, he is lying. And I will assure you, Tonks, he is lying about more than that. It's part of the disorder. Let me put this clearly: I believe Blasamore was killed by a wolf. I believed said wolf used a fire arm and a silver bullet to kill Blasamore much like he would have killed the wolf on a full moon's hunt. And any excuse I have to bring a killing wolf down I will take. I don't care if he kills with a gun or rips his victims apart. Worse yet, sometime they only bite their victims—leaving the family members to decide whether or not to kill their son or daughter or husband or wife in order to spare them from the misery and humiliation that being a werewolf is all about."

"You don't know anything," Tonks managed to whisper harshly.

"Don't I?" Scrimgeour pushed on, "I've been on this job much longer than you. I've seen the work a werewolf can do."

"So what?" Tonks hissed, "This is just a…an attempt to bring any wolf down? Any wolf you can get your hands on?"

To Tonks' great surprise, Scrimgeour nodded, "It would be very nice to finally bring one of those bastards to justice."

"Your idea of justice is pretty crappy then," she said, "He didn't do the murder you're trying him for! Remus didn't do-"

And as quickly as she had said it, Tonks shut up. Had she said too much? She had. The corners of Scrimgeour's lips began to curve and he knew she had failed a bit. She had given away too much.

"Remus, ay?" Scrimgeour said, "Anything that goes after that?"

Biting her lip, as if trying to keep the name inside her mouth and away from the prying eyes that stared deeply at Tonks now, she shook her head.

" I have his name, Tonks," the head auror went on, "I can head right to the office after I'm done here and look him up. Don't think I won't. Or you can tell me his name now."

Tonks said nothing. 

"A man has been murdered for God's sakes!" Scrimgeour was the one yelling now, "A man has been murdered in his own home and you are standing in the way of avenging his murder! Can you live with that?"

She allowed herself to release four words from her still tightly clamped mouth.

"He didn't do it."

Scrimgeour stared at her for what felt like five more minutes, digging, it seemed, into her forehead. Tonks suddenly feared if he knew Legilimency. But within time, he leaned away and turned back to the door, unsatisfied and huffing. "You are dismissed! Go home!" he roared as he slammed the glass door behind him.

Still shaking in a mixture of feelings—anger, fear, dread and guilt—Tonks stared around at the fountains and Chinese water gardens, hoping for any sign, anything of what to do. A wave of anxiety filled her and she felt her hair sizzle to a deep black color.

It was then that an idea came to her.

The first thing Tonks did was stopped at her parents' house. Both were off at work but it was neither of them that she wanted. Instead she ransacked Ted's closet and found herself a pair of dress pants, a button down shirt, a tie, shoes, socks and finally Ted's best robe that he had. Her father's build was bigger than hers and thus the clothes hung on her like skin pulled and now too large for the body. But Tonks would fix that.

You see, Scrimgeour's build was much like her father's—not so wide but the same height. Tonks tried desperately to remember just how long Scrimgeour's hair was but when she couldn't make a clear guess, decided to simply tie the tawny mass back in a simple ponytail as she had seen him do occasionally. Standing in the mirror and looking at herself, Tonks knew the clothes looked awkward on her new Scrimgeour body for the head of the auror office would hardly ever wear something that wasn't tailored perfectly to his body. Even now on a new frame, Ted's clothes hung oddly at the Tonks' ankles and sagged a bit in the belly area.

Frowning, Tonks knew it was the best she could do and there wasn't much time left. She grabbed an old briefcase of her father's and disapparated to the Ministry.

All files on supposed dark wizards were kept in the back filing area of the aurors office. Tonks could only assume then that files on werewolves were kept there as well. So that is where she headed.

The secretary behind the desk greeted Tonks as everyone else had since entering the Ministry—with reverence. Usually Tonks was hardly ever even given a hello. So low on the rungs of Ministry officials, Tonks was lucky if Moody gave her a greeting. Now in Scrimgeour's place, she was getting tips of the hats and hellos all over the place. Some even spoke to her with a bit of fear in their voice as did the secretary.

"Good afternoon, sir," she seemed to shrill, "What can I do for you?"

Tonks tried to force her voice down into something somewhat manly. She even threw in a cough or two to make the secretary think perhaps Scrimgeour had a cough, "I need a werewolf file."

A bit of confusion spread across the secretary's face and for a moment Tonks thought she was in the wrong place but the woman merely said, "Of course, sir. Right through the door. As always."

Had Tonks (real Tonks) wanted to retrieve any files from the back room, the secretary would have demanded everything from her first born to her left leg. Scrimgeour, however, needed nothing. And with this newfound information and swagger, Tonks walked to the door and headed into the filing room.

It was how Tonks had remembered it from years ago when she had been given a quick tour of the auror office upon her first day at training. All it was was a large, narrow room with two mirroring rows of tall filing cabinets reaching up to the ceiling. There appeared to be a varity of makes and sizes put into each row. They were stacked on one another awkwardly and seemed to shift and tilt in the breeze that the vent system was creating. Ladders on wheels were set up next to the filing cabinets. Gold plated signs hung at random points down the row to mark off what each section had within it.

Tonks started down the row, looking eagerly for anything having to do with magical creatures or maybe even just werewolves. She flew past others who busied themselves in the large section of dark wizards. Some said hello and Tonks greeted them with nothing more than a head nod. There was no talking here. She had to get the damned file and get out of there.

The row seemed to go on forever. Tonks even found herself out of breath but then again her father's billowing clothes were not helping her keep speed. Within time, however she found a newly hung sign in the center of the row deigning everything from that point on to be the files of known werewolves. Now Tonks turned to the drawers themselves, pulled on one labeled with a large B and was met with about five folders that had the names Barron, Bettle, Bexworth, Blittney and Blatts printed on them.

_Last names._ She thought. _They're sorted by last name._

Her fingers ran across the files until she uncovered the drawer with an L. She pulled that open and dug for the Lupin file. Like the seven others in the L drawer, Remus' folder was fat and packed with papers—as if the Ministry had been trailing his every move since birth. Or at least since being bitten. Tonks took a moment to flip through it and found several _mugs_ as Scrimgeour had put them, a few candid shots (the Ministry was stalking him?) and some important looking documents including a piece of fancy paper that Tonks took as diploma saying that Remus had attended Hogwarts and had graduated.

She had no time to be angry but was filled at this point with a horrible apprehension. She could picture the real Scrimgeour walking in at any time or standing outside the door with the secretary as the bumbling lady asked how the head of the auror office was standing right in front of her when he was looking through werewolf files right now. Shaking a bit, Tonks slid Remus' folder into Ted's briefcase and walked towards the door.

The secretary gave a hearty farewell as Tonks left the backroom and made her way back to the lifts. All the while, Tonks stood, terrified that anywhere along the route Scrimgeour would be there. She nearly ran her way to the exit.

Green flames shot up within the fireplace at Grimmauld Place for the second time that day. Tonks stepped out of the ash, wearing what appeared to be oversized men clothes. The noise of the Floo Network made Sirius run to the kitchen. The sight of Tonks made him laugh.

Earnestly though she handed him a thick folder and said, "Sirius, I need you to burn this for me. You're welcome to go through it but you have to burn it. Just don't tell Remus and _don't_ tell Moody. I may have just lost myself my job."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_Just Like Calcium_

For a long time, the two didn't know what to do with the folder. While both agreed that a curiosity existed in each of them over what things the Ministry could have on Remus, they also agreed that going through such papers without Remus' knowledge was wrong. But Tonks felt she couldn't wait for him to show up and dig through the files. The evidence had to burned and quickly just in case Scrimgeour would come knocking.

Sirius did take one quick look through the file and found that the majority of items within were photographs—of the candid variety. He even produced a picture as far back at Remus' Hogwarts' days and chuckled at the fact that James, Pettigrew and he were captured in the photo as well.

"I'm a known associate with a wanted man," he laughed, "Never thought I'd ever say that about Remus."

A round of hot coco was brought forward, a new fire was started with one swift toss, Sirius threw the damned papers in as he said, "I'll collect the ashes as soon as it's burned down a bit. They can reconstruct ashes I bet. Tricky spell but I bet they can do it." He sat back and sipped his drink but his eyes only stayed on the fire for a bit. Instead Sirius looked to Tonks, "That was a very brave thing you did."

Perhaps Sirius was used to scalding drinks for Tonks was wondering how he was downing his coco when the first sip she took burned her tongue harshly. She sat with the warm cup in her hands and continued to watch the folder turn to ash.

"It's just horrific," she then said, "He's a human being."

Sirius nodded, "People are stupid."

The roar of the fire and its new found feed filled the room and for a long stretch of time, Tonks and Sirius sat silently, occasionally sipping from their mugs but all the while thinking about Remus. The long stretch of quiet was only broken when Sirius asked quietly, "So what am I supposed to tell your mother?"

Tonks stared at him, "My mother? You're not going to tell her…about the files? Are you?"

The old smile Sirius hadn't worn for a while crept onto his face, "No, I won't tell her about the files but she is my favorite cousin. I _might _have to tell her about the werewolf who is busy deflowering her little girl."

Again a thick silence fell over the two as Tonks continued to stare, now wide eyed, at the snickering Sirius who merely shook his head and trained the last of his coco, "Did you really think you could hide it from me? I have nothing better to do than watch Remus and he's been way too damned happy lately for his own good. Of course I know! He didn't tell me but I know."

Tonks felt her face suddenly go red, "He's…he's been _happy_?"

"Of course," Sirius grinned, "He's been over the moon…uh…no pun intended. Or maybe there is a pun intended. He's certainly acting like he's not a werewolf any more so maybe he's put the moon behind him…he's…past the moon…over the moon. Am I making any sense?"

The coco had come to an acceptable temperature now and Tonks lifted it to her lips, attempting to hide the smile that was now blossoming across her face. But such a thing could not be hidden, even in the mere glow of the fireplace, from Sirius. He smiled and even gave a bark like laugh as if what was happening in front of him was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. "It's a great thing!" he said, "Dear old Moony needs a little…loving…if you know what I mean."

At that Tonks slid the cup away from her mouth and shook her head, "There is no…I mean…we don't…there's no…uh…" she stammered in search of the world.

"Sex?" Sirius said it for her, "God damn it! You're as bad as Moony! A perfect match you are!"

Tonks couldn't help but laugh now. She had never thought herself as particularly innocent minded but she assumed sitting next to Sirius now (and having possibly adopted some of Remus' behavior) she might appear that way. Still not saying the word, however, she continued, "Right. That. There is none of…that. Remus is a gentleman."

"Of course he is. The most gentleman like person I know. But I figured…he's almost thirty-five years old, my dear. And here you are. I thought maybe he'd…he'd feel a little…frisky," Sirius even threw a wink in there just for Tonks' amusement (or discomfort—she couldn't tell which,) "But, please for God's sakes," he went on, "tell me you snog him. On a regular basis. Please tell me you're slowly making up for all those years he couldn't look at a bird let alone kiss one. Please for the sake of the children, Tonks, tell me-"

"Yes! We snog!" Tonks giggled, "We snog! Are you happy?"

Sirius' expression turned sober, "Every day? It's like calcium. He needs to get it every day, Tonks."

Still laughing she nodded.

Seemingly satisfied with how she was _taking care_ of Remus, Sirius sat back and lounged in his chair. He continued to grin for a long time wordlessly before finally saying, "I think James would have liked you. Lily of course would have liked you but Lily liked everyone."

::::

Alone in the apartment, it was terrifying. The adrenalin had calmed from her wild escapades to bring Scrimgeour and his mad justice attempts down and now Tonks was left with what Remus had been left with—twelve eyes staring at her. It wasn't the same for her obviously. People weren't really chasing her or feeling giddy when they strapped her hide up on the wall. But the idea of that happening to Remus was horrific.

Her life up until Remus had not been lonely at all. She had had what she considered a good and stable childhood, made up of two working parents who provided a good home and education for her while also giving their daughter the attention she needed. And attention was something Tonks had needed. Looking back, she saw herself as a brat—somewhat demanding and in desperate need of notice. She remembers opening Christmas gifts but waiting until all eyes were on her to express her surprise or joy at what she had been given. Nothing was done for mere pleasure but for an audience. Neither Ted nor Andromeda had ever used the word _brat_ to define their daughter as they were likely to simply nod and say "That's the way children are at that age."

For whatever misery she might have given her parents during her early years of life, Tonks seemingly made up for it—at least at face value. Ted and Andromeda could never quite believe the stories of adventure their sweet little girl would bring home with her on holidays. The places she had been. The creatures she had stolen away to get a peak of. While her misbehaving nature and disrespect for simple rules were rarely causes for detentions, the staff still took notice of Tonks' wayward tendencies and thus never allowed her much room to advance—as far as being a Prefect or anything went. She was clever but simultaneously carefree. A dangerous combination as far as McGonagall had been concerned. She noted Tonks' abilities in transfiguration but often warned the girl that her talents should not go unused and if she wanted to succeed she should put her mind to the book instead of playing make believe outside.

"I don't play make believe!" the twelve year old Tonks had said.

"Of course you do," McGonagall said sternly, "You are at Hogwarts now, Miss Tonks, and it might be time that you grew up a little."

Perhaps it had been McGonall's strong words early on that moved Tonks or perhaps the young witch had a burning desire to prove the old lady wrong—prove that she could do something with her brains while still being young. She could still be a bit carefree. She loved her pink hair. She loved tennis shoes. She loved mud. She even loved playing with dolls from time to time—when a younger child was around of course. Where other adults would turn their nose up and say, "Oh, no, darling, mommies don't play with dollies. You can play by yourself," Tonks would feel both a bit of anger at the idea of growing up and empathy for a little girl who had no one to play with. It wouldn't be long before she was removing herself from the "grown up table" to sit cross legged with a pair of giggling girls and play a round of make believe.

_All must grow old, _she had once heard said. _But we don't have to grow up._

Life, all in all, though, had not been a trying one at all. Much like her father, Tonks often developed too quickly a want to help others. This was partially was why she joined the auror office. In a way, she could play the princess and the daring knight while simultaneously helping

people. She saw then the less fortunate and the people who didn't have a roof above their heads let alone that and a family to come home to every night. Smiling, Tonks got up every morning and said her life was quirky and fun and she was content.

But when love comes calling, it's much like running. In the midst of a war stood this man who for whatever reason was making Tonks stop her running. She slowed down and began to realize how badly her legs ached and how out of breath she was. There was a cramp forming in her side and had someone told her to keep moving, she wasn't sure she could. The longer she stayed, staring at this man, the more and more running without him seemed unlikely. Impossible even. If someone now—a plethora of people—were out seeking this man's head on their wall, what could Tonks do but do whatever was in her power to stop it? While Remus had been away with the werewolves, she had attempted to take up him up on his offer—begin again and accept his terms. She had tried to pick up her feet and run again but that damned ball of clay kept her stationary. Still, Tonks had tried. She had tried to write off her feelings as everything from merely physical needs to her only child tendencies to not want to be alone. Tonks had picked herself up every day that he had been gone and attempted to run again. But her legs refused to carry her.

Anyone who would hurt Remus had to be stopped. Thinking quickly, Tonks ran to the stove and heated it up. She dug through her closet to retrieve the cauldron she had been using for the past months and heated that up as well. The beginning smells of Wolfsbane were starting to fill the apartment when Remus showed up.

"Smells God awful!" he smiled.

She turned to him, still holding a short knife used for chopping ingredients, "Let's hope it tastes that way."

Remus eyed the knife in her hand, "Can I trust you with that?"

"I promise to be careful. I'm even doing it by hand to be sure no blades go flying anywhere."

Walking around to the other side of the counter, Remus continued to cautiously watch Tonks cutting up dried frog legs, "I'm just worried about you and your poor fingers. I don't know any spells to reattach limbs you know."

Tonks smiled.

"Let me help you," he thought to reach out and even grab one of the many ingredients laying nearby Tonks but didn't want to accidently startle her. One slip up with any situation involving Tonks and a knife meant something getting cut off.

"You really don't trust me?" she asked.

"No, I trust you. I just want to help."

Tonks turned to dump the finely chopped frog legs into the cauldron, "This is the first batch I'll be doing without Molly. Let me try. I'll have it up to Snape's in no time and he can look it over."

"I can't help you cut anything up?" Remus tried.

Again she turned and smiled, pretending to be insulted, "You _really_ don't trust me."

"I've seen enough episodes involving you and blades to know, Dora," Remus pushed, "I would hate to see anything come off is all I'm saying."

For a moment or two Remus just let her chop away. He watched silently and carefully, often thinking to speak up and correct the way she was holding the knife or the angle at which she was going at things. But he held his tongue and let her do her work. Tonks had just finished draining the juice out of a willdaroot when Remus said, "So…shit."

She looked up and sniggered, "What?"

"You said we were going to get shit done. Did you do any shit today?"

Tonks probably could have gotten away with a lie had she not turned her back on Remus and refused to make eye contact when she said, "No. Not really." He of course knew something big had to be up and pushed earnestly for her to spill. Torn by now knowing how Remus would feel about her jaunts today with Scrimgeour and the discovery and destruction of his files, Tonks beat around the bush for a long time, insisting that she had been put on field work but nothing had come of it. Remus wasn't buying it though.

"Are you in trouble?" he finally asked, "Something happened today. Are you in trouble?"

In a fit of nervousness, Tonks let her knife fall to the counter. The action made Remus jump a good foot backwards as to make sure he was clearly out of the way. "I'm sorry. I can't think," Tonks sighed, stepping away from the boiling cauldron and sharp items in front of her.

"Something _did_ happen," Remus went on, "What happened, Dora? Is everything alright?" After a brief silence, he asked, "Was it Scrimgeour?"

Tonks finally met his eyes now, "What do you mean _was it Scrimgeour_?"

"He's the head of the auror offices," Remus groaned heavily, "And he has a huge distaste for werewolves. I put him right up there with Umbridge. Did he say something? Are you in trouble?"

Biting her lip, Tonks wasn't sure how else to keep it inside. She had no choice but to say, "I'm not in trouble. Well, maybe I am. But _you're _the one who is really in trouble, Remus."

And thus started her long story of everything—the werewolf heads, the argument with Scrimgeour, the very clear threat the head of the auror department had made against Remus, Tonks' master plan, files and finally the files' eventually demise at the hands of her and Sirius. Feeling that as long as she was being honest, she might as well spill the whole truth about the talk she and Sirius had had. She told Remus that Sirius knew about the pair of them but that he was more than happy.

After Tonks' story, she half hoped for some kind of outburst from Remus but something very much worse came—silence. He just stared at her, as if he'd never seen her before and couldn't think of anything to do.

Now it was Tonks' turn to yell, "Well, say something!"

After another pause Remus said, "You shouldn't have done that."

"Which part shouldn't I have done?" she said, "I did a lot of stuff today."

"The big one! Stealing my files! You'll get yourself fired and then that's one less auror we have in the Order!"

Tonks was rolling her eyes, "But they were going to come after you! Scrimgeour said he didn't care what werewolf it was. He just wanted one."

"He's going to find out you took my file," Remus began to pace now.

Tonks threw herself on the ottoman, as if she were a rung out rag. That's at least how she felt now, "How? He only knows your first name. How many werewolves with the name of Remus are there? There might be hundreds!"

"Let's say there are," Remus was still pacing, "Let's say he picks one and he's a werewolf and he's got my name. Scirmgeour said he knew what I looked like. He's going to look at the mug in that file and when he doesn't find the mug that matches what he knows I look like, he's going to come after you. Or let's say he doesn't really know what I look like and he pulls a file of a werewolf with my name and he claims that that werewolf is me. Either way, an innocent wolf is getting charged with a murder he or she didn't commit!"

Feeling even raggier than ever, Tonks couldn't bear to lift her head and meet Remus' face, "I…I never thought…"

"You burned it?" he asked.

"And Sirius took care of the ashes."

"What do you mean 'took care'?"

Tonks flipped onto her belly now, still limp like a rag, "He said he was going to scatter them in various places. Divide the ashes up and hide them so it'd be nearly impossible for someone to find all of them and put them back together."

"Nearly impossible," Remus turned his attention to the window and pulled the blinds, "But not entirely impossible."

These words made Tonks sit up, "What? You're going to try to put the folder back together?"

"Someone is going to die if I don't!" Remus yelled, "Or you'll lose your job. Or worse. They might take you to Wizengamot for this, Dora."

"Why bother putting the file back together then?" Tonks yelled back, "Why don't you just turn yourself into Scrimgeour?" She paused, realizing Remus of all people might take that seriously, "That was a joke by the way. Please. Don't do that."

"You might have played into exactly what he wanted you to do anyway! How do you know he was going after me anyway? He could just be saying things!" A tremor of fear flashed over Remus' face before he turned to the door, "I have to get to Grimmauld Place and find those ashes. Now and-"

"What?" Tonks stared, stunned, "No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do-" Remus spun around, looking for his coat, "I need to put those files back together and get them to the Ministry and-"

"Accio wand!" Tonks yelled as she pointed her own at Remus. He spun with the force of his wand leaving his belt and watched it fall into Tonks' outstretched hand. Next she pointed her own wand at the door and cried, "Colloportus!" The door locked.

"They're going to kill you," Tonks said as Remus' shocked expression hit her face, "What the hell is the Order going to do without you?"

He stared at her, calm, "Give me my wand, Dora."

"They're going to kill you, Remus," she repeated herself.

"And if I don't go, they're going to kill someone else," he remained calm still, "Give me my wand."

Tonks' face was set. She held her wand and Remus' in one hand, clearly signifying she was not on the offense with him but still her face showed no sign of giving in, "You said yourself that he might just be a lot of talk. Knowing you, you'll go parade yourself in front of the Ministry and give yourself over just so that one unknown someone doesn't die-"

"One innocent man has already died, Dora!" he was now yelling again, "Don't make it two!"

"This isn't about innocence!" Tonks yelled back, "This is about keeping you alive! I'm not asking you to do the wrong thing…I'm…I'm asking you…to wait, I guess. Wait! Give it time! Give it until the morning! Scrimgeour might be all talk!"

It actually looked as though Remus might lunge at Tonks. Perhaps the idea had crossed his mind for now he was backing up, as though ashamed of some unspoken and undone deed. He took a calming breath, "There may not be enough time if I wait. There's a possibility that-"

"There's always going to be a possibility," Tonks cried out as if she was in pain, "Please."

Remus took a step towards her, "I have to get that file."

"You think you have to. Stop. Think for a second. You don't have to go, Remus."

But he was staring at her with a kind of anger Tonks had never seen on him before. Someone had put something between him and the right thing to do—and apparently to Remus, his ability to do the right thing no matter what the situation was his only redeeming quality. Tonks heart panged for him but he didn't take those threatening eyes off of her. She pleaded wordlessly once more before then pointing her wand again at the door and whispering, "Alohamora." She walked towards Remus and held out his wand for him, "You just got back from a death trap," she said, "Wait. This could…this might just blow over."

It appeared though that Remus had not heard her and gently reached out to take back his wand. Once having it back in his possession, his appearances seemed to soften and his look changed from anger to his usual apologetic nature. "You think I'm being reckless," he said.

"Well, duh," Tonks sighed, "You're going to run off and get killed, aren't you? Or thrown in Azkaban. Or shot with a silver bullet…which is getting killed. All in the name of honor."

His eyes stiffened again and his face seemed ready for the task at hand. It seemed he was ready to turn his back on Tonks, walk out and not say another word. Instead, however Remus threw his hand up sporadically, letting the wand fly across the room and land in some location about the apartment. He then took hold of Tonks' and did the same.

Thinking she must have missed something, Tonks stared at Remus with a raised eyebrow. "It's three now," he said, "The potion has to simmer for a bit, doesn't it? Snape won't like it if we disturb him too late."

A huge sigh of relief escaped Tonks as she said quietly, "Thank you," and then turned back to her cauldron to begin preparing ingredients again. Remus joined her at the counter and this time Tonks allowed him to help slice up a few things. They added what they needed and then allowed the brew to simmer for about four hours as needed. During that time they talked about nothing in particular—jelly mostly.

:::::

Snape's attitude about many things was not particularly rosy. Having two members of the Order (both of whom he openly despised) show up at his office with a sample of Wolfsbane potion did not lighten the mood. Nonetheless he examined the potion grudgingly and deemed it passable. He spoke very little but threw a round of wicked looks at both Tonks and Remus the whole while. It was almost midnight and thus Snape ordered Remus that as soon as the new day struck he should down the potion for apparently the longer a good pot of Wolfsbane sat, the weaker it could potentially become. But drinking a gobletful more than once a day could be hazardous to one's health and/or transformation in the coming full moon.

So the pair apparated back to Tonks' and waited by the clock for midnight to strike. Remus was the first to yawn.

"Soon, sweetheart," Tonks said, staring at the clock, "Only five more minutes to go and then you can go home and sleep."

Remus stared at the mug in his hands as its disgusting smoke swirled up into his face, "I can't wait to drink this," he joked.

Time passed slowly as the two sleepyheads waited anxiously for any sign of the new day. Despite his ever increasing amount of yawning and the dark rings now under his eyes, Tonks swore the wickedest of smiles was across Remus' mouth. It was a sly smile she had only seen one place before—across Sirus' face. Her mind wandered back to earlier that day and the conversation she and Sirius had shared. Frisky was the first word to enter Tonks' mind. Never would she have thought to describe Remus as that but sitting here in the dark with _that _look on his face, she began to see traces of it. He had been a genuine Marauder—served detention and everything with the late great James Potter and the ever enthralling Sirius Black. Possibilities began to flood her mind and she couldn't help but laugh.

Midnight came and Remus downed the potion, giving it a gag as it went down. As if expecting an applause for drinking the muck a second time, he looked to Tonks, "Well?"

Without thinking much of it, she had to ask, "What are you thinking about?"

Remus rolled his eyes and smiled, "You always ask me that question."

"Well, you're always thinking!" Tonks laughed more, "And you have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That look I only see on Sirius."

Remus snorted.

"It's true," Tonks said, "Just today I saw it on him. Sly. What are you thinking?"

The corners of his mouth turned up—eerily now like Sirius—into a smile but Remus' eyes hit the floor. He spoke quietly, "I was thinking…maybe I could just stay here tonight. It will be hard business finding my wand after I tossed it to God knows where. And I'd be happy to sleep on the couch-"

"You don't have to sleep on the couch!" Tonks said far too quickly for her own good.

Remus couldn't help but laugh then, "I think I'd better."

:::::

It seemed strange that something so innocent as spending the night on her couch would put such a smile on Remus' face. It wasn't such a surprise then that partway through the night, Tonks rolled over, half awake, and found herself at her beloved's side. For a moment, she wondered if she had slept walked to the couch but upon looking about confirmed that she was in her room, in her bed and in Remus' arms. Her stirring had woke him up and now the two laid there just looking at one another.

"Gentleman my eye," Tonks whispered.

"I just like being around you," Remus whispered back.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_The Experiment_

Neither of them were good looking but one in particular was really ugly. It came down to mostly that after years of life on the road, this bloke just didn't care anymore. His appearance had soaked through this table manners, allowing him to drool as he liked, spit wherever he pleased and chew food with such energy that pieces flew out of his mouth and all over his counterparts. No one spoke up against it so it was clear this one was the ring leader of the group.

A posse like this didn't usually take to open places like pubs so the sight of them was odd—wolves like their space. They figured wherever they hang their hats would less than welcoming considering the stigma against their kind. If this pack had been nervous about entering here, they didn't show it; in fact they acted almost as if they were old patrons who had been given enough wiggle room to say as many cuss words as they pleased and make a wreck of the bar however they saw fit. They drank mostly, maybe ate a few peanuts that were placed in the bowl at the center of the table. They stuffed the whole thing (shells and all) into their mouths and spat it out once they had found the actual nut. Dirty jokes were passed around soon enough a canteen of someone's homemade spirit did as well. Under usual circumstances, the bartender would have stepped forward—never allowing drink other than his to be consumed. But for now and with this group, the old man stayed behind the bar and kept his distance, doing what the cronies of the head wolf demanded and always throwing in the occasional "sir" just to keep his skin. The lot got a good laugh out of this and at one point dragged the bartender over to their table. He smiled nervously as he met their leader's eyes.

"Calling us all _sir_?" the sloppiest of the wolves shouted, "Never been called that in me life. Pretty fancy stuff, eh?"

"I can all my patrons _sir,_" the bartended said quietly.

The thug holding him by the arm leaned in closer to the man, "Whatchu say? Speak up, man! Can't hear you!"

"I said that I call all my patrons _sir_!" the bartended tried again.

This made the alpha pound the table with his fist, laughing so hard. Within seconds of him starting the other joined in as well.

"Even the ladies?" one rang out.

Baffled the bartender said, "Well…no…I mean I'll call them _miss_ or something…"

A chorus of laughter sounded again and the old man tried to smile. Maybe he was being funny. Maybe they were legitimately laughing with him. Maybe he would get away and be able to see his wife tonight. Maybe he'd live to tell this tale.

"Very fancy!" the leader repeated himself.

It was then the man felt a single finger trace his cheek line. It was almost…_seductive_. The way the finger ran over his face so gently—as not to disturb it. Frozen with fear, the man had no choice but to stand and stare at the table of wolves, terrified of the one behind him. All of the wolves' eyes had left the bartender and now rested on the owner of the hand.

"Well, Darius?" the alpha asked.

The thug named Darius simply continued to stroke old man's cheek for a few more moments before sighing, "I suppose he will do."

"D…d…do?" the old man stuttered.

The alpha ignored him, continued to stare at Darius and sneered, "I don't understand how you like them like this. All…dried out…It reminds me a jerky. Disgusting."

He didn't know what they were planning to do but he knew he didn't like it. The old man turned, trying to scream but Darius held him back, flung him onto the table and pinned him there. The bottles and remainder of peanuts flew everywhere but the wolves got a good laugh at watching the old man squirm beneath Darius' tight hold. The wolf had his grip around the man's throat—choking him enough for pain but not enough for death. His short arms tried in vain to reach up and scratch at Darius. He might have passed out there had it not been the single beam of magic that flew across the bar, hit Darius square in the back and sent him flying over the table towards the wolves, smacking foreheads with the leader.

The conjurer of the spell reached across the table before the pack had time to get their alpha on his feet and realize what had happened. He took hold of the bartender, pulled him to his feet and then swung the old man behind him. Wand at the ready, Remus stood at attention, facing his battle of six wolves versus his lone self.

All in all it was quick. This group was what Remus called _puppies—_a pack so green and in need of a leader so badly (no matter how incompetent that leader is) that they couldn't and wouldn't do a thing without the written consent of said leader. The lot, now faced with a real crisis, looked tough and snarled like real wolves but had not yet been trained in what to do. They jumped randomly and maybe fired a few spells but they always looked to the alpha and merely mimicked what he did. Six copycat attacks were easy to take down. The bartender stood in awe as the wolves dropped like flies and within a few minutes, the floor was littered with them. Remus turned to the alpha who was now bleeding profusely from his nose, pulled on his shirt, looked him square in the eyes and told him to get lost. The wolves scattered with their tails between their legs (figuratively of course) and the few remaining patrons of the bar began to applaud Remus.

The bartender's lanky wife threw herself at him and cried, thanking Remus over and over again. Some patted him on the back and one even approached with money. "Where have you been all this time?" he exclaimed, "They've been coming in here every night for a few days now and wrecking havoc on us!" The stranger stuffed ten galleons into Remus' hand and before he could refuse to accept them, the stranger was gone.

Remus kept five of them and gave the other five to the bartender as payment for any damages the group may have caused. It had been a complete accident that he had been there anyway—maybe not an accident but just chance that out of all the places to go, Remus had chosen _this_ pub. The day had been a lazy one with an idle mind left to consider a lot of things. He hadn't even turned to Sirius to ask about such things. He had merely turned to the pub because that's what he had always thought was what happened when big decisions like this had to be made.

Leaving the pub now, he didn't have a clear decision made but he had five more galleons in his pocket than when he entered. Leaving the pub, he dropped his hands into his pockets. One held his newly found money and the other held the box.

:::::

With the rising of the full moon, Remus and Sirius left for the woods. Tonks wanted to go along but until they could be sure her new Wolfsbane potion worked, Remus wouldn't allow it. Out in the open air, Sirius felt alive as he run about and smelt the coming spring approaching. He hated the idea of the spring but now with the mud under his padded feet and the air heating, even he could warm up to it a bit. Even Remus could let off some steam traipsing about the forest after he came to discover Snape hadn't been lying and Tonks was better at potions than she gave herself credit for. His mind was open and clear. It was shocking to be in his full mind when his spine lengthened and his vision suddenly grew superiorly cleaner. But the feeling was also uplifting. It had worked. He could live like this. A week devoted to drinking that disgusting potion was worth this. This was good. This was great.

Remus' fears grew a bit with the next full moon when he knew he had to keep to his promise in letting Tonks tag along. He wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do that Sirius wasn't already doing but his fears stemmed more from some chance mishap that might have occurred in the brewing. Maybe it wouldn't work this time.

Giving a sly smile, Sirius told Remus he wasn't going to tag along on this one. "I'm not going to be there for your _every_ transformation but if things keeping going as they are, Tonks will."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked.

"You know what I mean," Sirius laughed, "Just another function of the wife I guess. Clean your socks. Drop your suit off at the cleaners. Make your coffee. Follow you into the night when you transform into a deadly beast once a month."

"Won't you miss running around and getting out of the house?"

Again, Sirius laughed, "You think I only get out when _you're _around. Surely you know me better than that, Remus."

So with that, Tonks and Remus apparated to the forest by themselves. Tonks had brought along a canteen of water, some fruit, a few muffins Molly had baked and finally a thick blanket. Remus eyed the last item carefully, "For you?"

Tonks shook her head, "For you. For before you transform…I figured…I thought you could…I don't know how things work but it was just an idea. You don't want to rip your clothes you've got so you could…you know…get undressed and then wrap the blanket around you. So you'll stay warm," she grinned, "And I won't see anything. I'll be a lady. I'll close my eyes."

"Clever," Remus said, "Sirius never thinks like that. He usually just makes me dance around naked. Thinks it's funny."

The two waited for a long while. Remus had said he had to be ready by the time the night fell. "It happens at varying times," he explained, "I think it's just when my body registers that it's out." For a few hours, the light disappeared and the pair sat on the grassy forest floor, snacking on fruit and trying to prepare themselves for what was going to happen.

"Are you nervous?" Remus asked.

A bit confused by the question Tonks retorted, "Should I be?"

"What if the potion doesn't work this time around?" he crumbled a bit of banana in his fingers absentmindedly.

"You really don't trust me."

The past month or so had been a terribly happy time for Remus really. It had been marked by his first birthday with a love affair encircling it. Not that meant anything particularity romantic unless one considers a home baked birthday cake, a bottle of wine and a new traveling cloak from Tonks _romantic._ There was lots of snogging of course. Tonks had taken Sirius' advice and made a conscious effort to kiss her beloved at least once a day. She never found it much of an effort though. At one point, a few days after his birthday, Remus had pulled away from the snogging and said simply, "Kisses just fall out of you, don't they?"

"Only when you're around," she joked before putting her mouth to work again.

To make matters even brighter, Scrimgeour had kept clear of Tonks for the time. Not just Tonks but the entire auror office. He was rarely seen and when he was, it was always at a time when crowds seemed to form around him, demanding his attention. There was no time for awkward silences between him and little old Tonks where he could possibly bring up Remus or she could bring up how much she'd like to kill him. Talk about Blasamore had actually died out a bit.

The only thing Tonks found herself worrying about (besides the Order) was how to spring new ambushes on Remus, pin him against the wall and kiss him.

Sitting in the growing moonlight, though, she knew Remus was in no mood for such things. He was the one who was clearly anxious and about the moon more than anything. So much so that he didn't seem to mind nearly as much as Tonks thought he would over undressing in front of her. She held the blanket up as a shield, turned her head and closed her eyes while he stripped. He then took hold of the blanket and wrapped it around his now shivering self.

And for a while they waited again. The moon rose higher and Remus' body took note of it. Prepared now, he didn't go into a kind of shock at the sight but merely started coughing—gagging really as if he had something caught in his throat. The coughing grew to a hack and then a screaming. Tonks was ordered to stand back and the change began beneath the blanket. Despite all the time they had spent together, it still seemed Remus was harshly ashamed of this part of his life. Tonks stuck by her belief that love encompassed many things—including respect and trust. Perhaps it was just a growing process but it struck Tonks oddly that Remus refused to really transform in front of her. He _really_ didn't trust her.

By the time he had thrown the blanket off, the man was gone and a lanky wolf was all that remained. He resembled the sickly looking wolves up on Blasamore's wall—not like something you could find in the forest but a dark creature hidden in a jungle somewhere hunting jaguars or the like. Remus shook his heavy head and turned it towards Tonks who by now had dropped the muffins she had been holding in shock. Realizing this, she stooped down to pick the lot up casually as if watching werewolves morph was a run-of-the-mill thing in her life. After she had collected the fruit, she raised her head to find Remus was still staring at her."

"Remus?" she called.

The wolf nodded, registering that he was still in his right mind and understood who Tonks was. Clouds were pushed away by the wind and Tonks was suddenly standing in the full glow of the moon. She could see clearly the wolf that was before her as she took a few wobbly steps towards him. Thinking that Remus might run off, in fear of her safety, Tonks walked slowly but he never left her. She even was able to reach out, pat his head and look in his eyes—no longer their dark blue but a sour apple green now. They were bright and like Remus in human form, the eyes were the clear defining factor of the face. One could even see past the thick scars that ran across his skin because the eyes drew attention so much.

Tonks knew she wouldn't be able to keep speed with him and the best thing Remus could do right now was wear off some of this new found energy so she stayed behind with a wand at her side, munching on the left over fruits while Remus ran. An hour went by and Tonks was bored. She had figured she wouldn't be running across creation with a werewolf but she figured the event would have been a little more exciting. Remus' clothes had already been folded and put aside. The idea of bringing a book was shot down because reading required light and light attracted attention and even if Remus was sure now _he _wouldn't hurt Tonks, he was sure there was some other werewolf out now who would. Food was the one thing that kept Tonks entertained at this point so she ate a bit more, making sure to save a share for Remus for when he returned, famished probably. When her bit of food was gone, she turned instead to Remus' wand that he had left in her care. Wands were ticky bits of magic and not just anyone could wield another's wand. Curiosity got the better of her and she began attempting simple spells with Remus' wand.

It was dangerous of course. This was exactly what Remus had warned her against doing but nearly four hours had passed since he had left her and the boredom was simply too much to bear. She tried the lumos charm a few times before getting it right and then attempted to summon things. The wand was heavier in her hands—made of a coarser wood than hers and built for heavy dueling. It was silly to think that little old Tonks was now an auror when she considered her talents. Concealment. Humor. Cleverness. She didn't think of herself as a strong, beefy woman who was capable of taking out hoards of dark lords. Remus, had he been able to afford the schooling and had he believed in himself enough, would have made an excellent auror Tonks decided. His wand didn't look as though it would weigh all that much but it felt considerably dense. It felt like it was made for combat. Always on the offense.

Time dragged and Tonks put down both wands. The idea of an oncoming werewolf attack she wasn't prepared for and thinking of the exasperated look on Remus' face if he saw what she was doing worked away at Tonks so she chose instead to sit and watch the moon wane. Not long after that, Remus returned, panting and obviously a bit worn out. Tonks grabbed the canteen and poured a helping of lukewarm water into his mouth. She offered him the last two muffins and he went for those, even pushing Tonks aside with his body to get at them. At first, she had to make sure this was the same werewolf she had come in with, for a gesture like that seemed highly rude and not Remus-like at all. Tonks began to wonder though if he had been trying more so to push her hands away rather than she herself in order to make sure he didn't accidently bite her. His body was very large now and small gestures were clumsy and over exaggerated. In time, Remus was digging his snout into the dirt around the blanket, trying to get it back over his body. He could feel the change was coming.

Draped in the thick blanket, the howling began which softened into the gagging sound once more. Tonks stood nearby with Remus' clothes in hand as the blanket began to shrink, the gagging and moaning died away and all that was left was a man where the wolf had been.

She pulled back to covers to reveal his face and found he was still panting, "Alright?" Tonks asked.

Without saying a word, possibly for lack of ability to, Remus nodded and sat up, still prudishly pulling the blanket up around his waist to at least keep that much of him covered. Tonks began to hand him his things and he quickly changed back into normal attire, still wordlessly. When he stood and attempted to walk, Tonks noticed a slight limp accompanied him now and she went to hold him up, afraid he might fall.

"I'm fine," Remus said, "Minor casualty this time around."

"Casualty? Did you kill something?"

Remus' face flushed, "Bad choice of words. No, I didn't kill anything tonight. But I did do a number to my ankle I think. That's a dainty injury, don't you think? Twisting your ankle? Could be worse."

They gathered up their things and apparated back to Tonks'. She placed Remus on the couch and put his ankle up before taking a look at it. To her, it appeared fine.

"I don't know anything about healing bodies though," she sighed, "It could be broken for all I know!"

Remus shook his head, "I can walk on it and move it. It's not broken. Looks a bit swollen but I'm fine."

Tonks looked suspicious, "You sure?"

"Positive," he insisted, "It was a good night as far as full moons go."

Despite the late hour, neither of them were tired. Tonks wondered if Remus had fallen asleep while out in the woods and Remus had wondered the same thing of her. They then agreed it was all that adrenaline which had now become commonplace for Remus but a new feeling for Tonks—wide awake at three in the morning. She made a pot of tea and the two sat and drank up. The hot drink warmed Remus' chilled bones and seemed to ease him. He began breathing at an even pace and even managed a smile—a noticeably wicked smile. One Tonks had seen on him before but only rarely.

She guessed at the only thing she thought it could mean, "Would you like to spend the night?...or morning I should say."

Remus looked up at her, "On the couch of course."

"Of course," Tonks smiled wickedly back because she knew what _on the couch_ eventually turned into, "It's your smile. You smile when you're thinking it," she laughed, "Is that a naughty thought? Spending the night on my couch?"

"Well, I rarely make it all the way through on the couch as you might remember," Remus took another swig of tea to hide the growing glee. Or was it blush that was spreading like wildfire? A mixture of the two. Thoughts that were wanted but by one who was afraid to voice them. Knowing Remus, he was probably considering merely holding her hand in public. A daring move made by two people who, to the outside world (except Sirius), were and had always been just friends. His embarrassment at something so small was adorable to say the least in Tonks' eyes. Parts of Tonks had left her thinking that had she had her way, the two would have come home from the Weasley house that fateful day a month or so ago and fallen straight into bed. But Remus, who had never had something so physical, was surprisingly in no hurry. He liked kissing her. He liked the taste of her breath and the way her mouth worked. There was an aspect of fun in pushing each other away and playing coy, in sitting across the room and staring at one other, wondering who would be the first to make the first move and begin. There was something simple about being able to crawl into her bed on those few nights he did sleep over and just fall asleep. For someone who had never experienced any kind of romantic love, he was willing for a time to be innocent. To have fun. To be coy and to be kids.

Still, the smile continued. As wicked as ever.

Remus and Dora sat up for another two hours. She made a second pot of tea and chilled down a dish rag to adhere to Remus' ankle. Looking at it now, she could see it was swollen but Remus didn't appear to even think about complaining. He let the rag sit on his ankle and just kept smiling. "You look tired, Dora."

Trying to suppress a yawn, Tonks said, "It's alright," she looked to the clock, "It's only, what? Five thirty?"

"Do you work tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Sunday."

"So no?"

"So no."

Remus' attention suddenly shifted to his ankle as he reached forward and tried to shift the rag around unnecessarily. Attempting to write this off, Tonks gave another wide yawn, "I think I'll try going to bed, my loveliness," she smiled, "Should I pull out a pillow and a blanket or are we not even attempting tonight?"

"I can get it," Remus said, his eyes still on his ankle. 

"You're injured. I'll get it," she went to the closet and loaded her arms with another thick blanket and pillow before handing them over to Remus, "Sleep well," she then gave him one last peck on the head before retreating to her room.

Perhaps there was a part of Tonks that knew their evening wasn't going to end like that. That's why she didn't try to fall asleep right away—she knew there was more on Remus' mind and more he wanted to say. She climbed into a pair of baggy Capri pajama pants and a worn T-shirt, sat up in bed, leaving the lights on and attempted to read. Within a few minutes, she heard Remus' limp come towards the door. He was then in her doorway, looking somber now as if someone had just died.

"You alright?" Tonks asked.

"Fine," Remus said too quickly, "I just…I…" his eyes fell from her to the floor again, "I wanted to…thank you…for coming along tonight. I know I was asking a lot."

Tonks couldn't help but smile, "You weren't asking a lot. I _wanted_ to come. Remember? I _want_ to help you. No matter what it is. Because you're my crazy sexy lover and that's what crazy sexy lovers do for one another."

"Lover?" Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Well, _lover_ has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Tonks tried to match the sly grin that was streaming across Remus' face now. He was attempting to keep it under control but he couldn't manage it. Curiosity peaked again within Tonks and she had to ask, "What are you thinking?"

"You _always _ask me that."

"Well, you're _always_ thinking. And you've got that look on your face."

His eyes still hadn't met hers. They were still tracing the outline of the quilt on her bed when Remus asked, "Can I try something?"

"Try something?" Tonks wasn't concerned so much as she was confused. What could he possibly want to try?

"Yeah," Remus went on, "I just…I've been…I feel…oh, god…I feel a little stupid asking you this but you're always saying…you're always saying I can ask you anything and I can tell you anything…and I was just…" he trailed off and it look as though he might run back to the couch.

"Right. You can tell me anything," Tonks said then, "I just don't know what you mean by try something." Unsure of what to do, she patted the edge of the bed, asking him to come and sit. Immediately she regretted doing it as she thought she sounded like a mother, asking her child to come, sit next to her and talk like a big boy to her.

Remus didn't appear offended though and took the invitation immediately. It was only then when the distance between then was a bit friendlier did he say the words he had been wondering all night, "Can I…can I touch you?"

Of course he had touched her before. It's hard to kiss without arms wrapped tightly around your lover's body but tonight the tenseness in his whole being told Tonks this territory he was walking was uncharted to him. Unsure of where it was going but willing to follow, Tonks reached out and took Remus' hand. She then placed it just above her knee and sat back. For a while, he sat there, feeling her knee cap and nothing else. Without asking for permission, though, he began to work his hand down her inner thigh under finally it reached the end. The sensation of his touch was somewhat lost being as her panties and the thick material of the pants were there but she let him keep his hand there, caress it even. It wasn't enough though and wordlessly, Tonks slid the Capri's and the panties off. She was surprised he didn't protest but Remus did have to start all over again now with a hand on her knee and then slowly working its way down until he reached the end again.

"I don't really know what I'm doing," he said.

Tonks didn't really know what to do either but the feel of his hands so close was electrifying. She simply shook her head and breathed, "Just keeping going. It's okay."

Fumbling his way around, Remus slipped his fingers inside and just touched. He wasn't sure what he was doing but whatever he was doing was his beloved throw her head back and moan. He continued on, moving his fingers high and lower, finding the softest part.

"Higher…" she'd cry and he'd move his hands likewise—her body arching into his touch. The whole thing was so soft, so delicate he thought. How could a woman as tough and hex-happy as Tonks carry something so gentle inside her without fearing she'd hurt it? Remus bent his head down and kissed her knee, his stubble tickling Tonks and sending shivers all over her. It could have grown to more that night had Remus not said then possibly the unsexiest thing in the world.

"It feels like the inside of a cheek."

Even while lying there with his fingers all over her and his chin resting on her knee, Tonks gave a hearty laugh at Remus. She laughed for a good while and managed to pull Remus away from his experimenting long enough to kiss him.

For most of the morning, Tonks laid there happily as her beloved's hands found her again and wound their way round—his mouth running along her legs and covering every inch of leg and hip and ankle with kisses. They didn't talk as Remus felt his way through things he'd never felt before, eventually ending up at her mouth again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_House on Fire_

_All muggle born_. She thought.

Her mind had given way to dreams about exploding bridges and hoards of dead bodies. The carnage began to change the longer Tonks slept and soon it included all forms of life—all kind s of humans ranging from wizards to muggles and then encompassing mammals, birds and fish. The lowliest of creatures could not escape the coming doom that seemed just beyond the horizon. Images of fish dragged from their watery homes and left to suffocate on a hot sidewalk filled her mind. Birds were being ripped from the sky, horses were being trampled, spines were shattered, joints were smashed and skulls splintered under great weight. The pictures in her mind moved quickly and made their meaning plane: in the coming war, things would never be the same. War was not something that was supposed to happen. It was unnatural and its repercussions would pull the world out of alignment.

She woke up in a cold sweat, having pulled her whole body tightly into a ball and held onto anything within reach distance. Her fingers ached from gripping the sheets and slowly Tonks let them loose and attempted to flex them; it felt her joints had not stretched in years. It was then she turned her attention to the other side of bed and found it empty. Tonks searched through her memory and vaguely remembered Remus kissing her and telling her he had to leave but just for a while. It had been nearly two in the afternoon when he had left and while vacations were a lovely excursion from the regular routine, Tonks knew the call of duty always sounded.

She tried to close her eyes but visions of brain chunks or headless bodies swarmed in to greet her. So instead, she laid on her back for a long while, just staring at the ceiling. For an hour or two she just laid there, occasionally thinking about what she would do if she had the strength to get up or how lovely it would be to find sleep without nightmares.

_All Muggle born._ Tonks thought. Time crept by and slowly sleep deprivation had driven the demons away. She slept dreamlessly.

It was dark when she awoke and by that time hunger was now working away at Tonks. She drowsily rose and went to the kitchen. She made a simple dinner of salad and chicken but her mind still refused to fight off what she had seen. War was a word that had slipped through the mouths of millions of people but its meaning had gotten lost along the way. Now Tonks felt as though she had slipped into its grasps and seen the damages it could do. There are always casualties in war but just whose head is put on the chopping block? Tonks could see a field of faceless bodies but what if in the midst of those bodies lay those most dear to her? The war that Moody had been spouting about for so long was finally coming home. A flood Death Eaters were on the loose and were busy hunting all that Tonks loved. Again she tried to count out all the muggle borns she knew.

Her father. Poor Ted. Tonks pictured a giant box somewhere—a place she could put her father as to protect him. It could have a bed and a sink and toilet. It would have everything he'd need and she'd bury her father and check on him often. She'd let him come out when the cost was clear and all was over. Tonks then had to stop and really think about her father—a heftily built man who, while somewhat afraid of confrontation, would not easily sit aside and watch the war play out.

A few friends passed through Tonks' mind as well. Some good friends from work and a few from school. If she was put to it, who could she get along without? Such an idea was heinous to think of—putting a price or worth on someone. But in time the truth crept into Tonks' mind; faced with the choice between saving her father or Daisy Dallit (an old friend from her second year at Hogwarts), Ted came first. There were priorities in the end. The sad part was that if Tonks was standing in the fire and had enough time to grab one person, she would reach for those dearest to her first. She would have to. It was instinct. To hear anyone scream was horrible but this was her father she was talking about…her beloved even.

Shaken a bit, Tonks tried to keep her mind busy. She ran about the kitchen and made more dinner though she was not in the least hungry. The food began to pile up and soon she was digging out long lost doggy bags Andromeda had given her months ago for some unknown reason. Tonks began filling the bags with helping after helping of food. She cooked up some more of the chicken and then mashed potatoes. She baked a few dozen cookies. Molly had sent along a few jars of jam some weeks back and so Tonks dug those out and made a heaping bunch of jam sandwiches. Soon, the bags were filled with food. But Tonks was still anxious. She busied herself then with planning who would get all these bags of treats.

Many people gave Tonks odd looks as she appeared on their doorstep with doggy bags of food. Gallian gave the oddest look of all, "You know it's nearly eight at night," he said, "I've eaten dinner already."

"Everyone can do with some food!" Tonks smiled weakly before heading over to her parents' house.

"You made _us_ food?" Andromeda seemed shocked as she accepted the doggy bag.

"Got bored I guess."

Andromeda pushed the food back into her daughter's arms, "Well, thank you, Nymphadora, but you're living on your own now. You need the food more than we do."

"But I want you to have it," Tonks shoved the bag back.

"We have plenty!" her mother pushed back. Then an idea struck her. She stared Tonks up and down, "What did you do to it?"

Tonks laughed, "You think I did something to it! I just made a bunch of food…and here you are! Enjoy! It means I love you!"

Andromeda was about to cut in when her husband's voice from far within the house cut her off, "Just accept the food! You know how she is!"

The last place on her list to visit was Grimmauld Place. She knocked quietly and was let in by Sirius who (not surprisingly) was wide awake despite it being nearly ten at night.

"To what do I owe the invitation?" he asked, giving Tonks another of his famous winks.

She held up the overstuffed doggy bag, "I got a bit bored today and made some food. Too much. I've been playing delivery woman for some two hours now."

"All well and good," Sirius said, accepting the bag and taking a peek inside, "Peanut butter cookies. How did you know they were my favorite?"

"Are they?"

Sirius reached inside and stole a handful of the cookies but ignored the question. Still digging, his face drooped a bit and he looked up at Tonks, almost disappointed, "No chocolate? Not even a chocolate chip cookie. How do you expect to be Mrs. Remus Lupin one day when you can't even make a good chocolate cookie?"

Tonks smiled at him, "You know he carries chocolate with him because of demeantors and-"

"Bullshit!" Sirius yelled out, stuffing more cookies into his mouth, "…he carries chocolate with him because he's addicted. How many dementors do you think he runs into on a daily basis?"

"You know it's not just dementors," Tonks said, "Rubbing chocolate on unicorn bites can help in the swelling."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius chuckled, "Enough of that. I suppose I shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"Dead?"

Pointing to the narrow stairs, Sirius said, "He must be dead. Or something. Tired at least. Now that I think of it, he did come home right late this morning. Must have been with someone..." his sly eyes landed on Tonks for a moment, "I thought he could tame a unicorn. Guess not. Anyway, haven't gotten a word out of him all day. He won't eat either. He just sits up in his room."

Tonks' brow furrowed. This didn't sound like simply fatigue to her. This seemed like right out depression. With yet another sly wink from Sirius, she made her way up the stairs to Remus' room. She knocked and when no answer came, she simply let herself in.

Remus was in bed now, sitting up on top of the covers with a book but his gaze completely missed the pages. He looked worse than tired and Tonks quickly guessed he hadn't gotten any sleep even with the full moon and everything that had happened yesterday and that morning. Remus didn't even flinch when the door opened and Tonks walked in. She had to call out his name before he fell out of his shocked appearance.

"Dora…" he attempted to smile.

"Hello, my loveliness," Tonks cooed, sitting on the bed beside him, "Is everything okay?"

The effort to appear happy was there but it was all too obvious how fake it was. Remus couldn't even get words out; he merely nodded.

"You're not very convincing," Tonks said, reaching for his hand, "Sirius says…he says you haven't eaten anything today."

"Just tired," Remus shrugged, "You may remember what went on this morning."

"I remember lots of touching and kissing," Tonks knew he was trying to be sly and romantic—try to get off the subject and talk about lovely things. Like that morning when he had been relaxed and comfortable enough to say what he had wanted. When he had been smooth and sweet—not worn and fatigued like he was now. It was all different now; there was something Remus knew that was keeping him from being happy like he had been.

Still he reached his hand out and touched Tonks' neck as if trying to resurrect that morning.

"What's wrong?" she repeated herself.

The question was just enough of something to stop Remus from pretending or perhaps he knew Tonks enough to know she wouldn't fall for his façade. His hands fell away from her and he looked toward the far dresser. Tonks' eyes followed his gaze where she found a single envelope lying amongst Remus' few possessions. She stood and went for it. All there was inside was a single sheet of paper that read five words: _werewolves don't make good lovers._

Anger was the obvious thing to go to. A flood of it filled Tonks before the fear set in—she thought about that morning and her bedroom and the thing she had let Remus do. The ideas of people watching them swept in. Peeping Toms. Standing on tiptoes to see into windows and then run home to write nasty letters.

A long while went by with Tonks just staring at the paper before Remus said, "I found it in my coat pocket while I was out at Knockturn Alley this morning. I think someone slipped in my pocket while I wasn't looking."

Tonks turned with the paper still in her hands, "Scrimgeour?"

Remus' face was not scared like it was when she had first come in. He didn't have to pretend anymore and (like Tonks) his emotions fled back to anger. His features were hard and fixed and it appeared he was going to burst—explode into fury and maybe go into a speech about the injustice of it all. Who was watching them? _Was_ someone watching them? Was this Scrimgeour? Or was this just someone who detested wolves? Tonks watched Remus rise to his feet and waited for some brave words to be spoken. But despite his determined look, all he said was, "You're not safe."

She faltered, "_I'm_ not safe? What the hell are you talking about? _I'm_ not the one getting letters. _You're_ the one that's not safe."

"But they're talking about you," Remus said, suddenly pacing once again, "They're talking about you and me. I've been a werewolf nearly all my life but for the first time I'm a wolf with a…a girl. A perfectly innocent and whole girl. They don't like it."

"Who doesn't like it?" Tonks yelled, "What are you talking about?"

"Everyone," he continued to pace, "No one likes it. What we're doing."

"Well, unfortunately for them, I don't give a damn what they think," Tonks tried to think quickly, "Scrimgeour," she finally said, "Scrimgeour has been laying off on us and now he's back on this whole Blasamore thing. He's trying to scare you."

Remus smiled a bit, "He's doing a good job at it. But it's not just Scrimgeour who has a problem with me-"

"Who else does? Who else would send you nasty notes?"

"Anyone who knows I'm a werewolf," Remus said, very matter of fact, "You don't understand the way these people work, Dora. I'm…I'm a monster. To them I am at least. They see you and me and they're trying to scare me and spook me and…"

Tonks was having trouble watching Remus continue in this frantic pacing. She pulled at his hand and led him to the bed where she forced him to sit, "Then we just need to show them that we're not scared or spooked."

"You're in danger," he said.

Rolling her eyes, Tonks went on, "You worry about yourself and I'll worry about me," she sat down beside him, "You're sure this isn't just some…some sick joke…I mean…Sirius?"

She thought for a second he'd be angry with such a suggestion but to Tonks' great surprise, Remus merely shook his head, "No. He wouldn't do that. I trust him. He has an odd sense of humor at times but…no…"

It seems perhaps the idea might have slipped past Remus as well.

"We just need to figure out if it's Scrimgeour," Tonks said, "If it is, then…then we have a problem because…he's a problem I guess. But if it's not…then it's just some dumb git who we shouldn't worry about."

Remus turned his whole attention back to Tonks, "_You're_ in danger," he repeated himself, "You've never had a death threat, have you? You just…you don't know what these people are capable of."

The full impact of it all hit Tonks then. It wasn't just the fact she had no idea who his parents were; there was a score of other things she had no idea of about Remus. Death threats? What had given Remus this frantic pace in his walk now and had caused his hands to shake as they were now. She was reminded of the time she saw him crying over Blasamore's wolf heads. He sat beside her now, filled with stories she had never heard of, stories that had been too sad or gruesome to be told.

Tonks worked her hand into Remus' fist and held on tightly, "Who…who sent you death threats?"

Remus' hand, now alleviated from its fist, laid limp within Tonks grasp. He took a breath, attempting to pull himself together again and said, "I'm a werewolf, Dora. People want me dead. And you? You're just as much a werewolf being with me. To them at least. What would a perfectly healthy and normal witch be doing with a werewolf? When people like this come along…" his eyes fell to the letter that was still in Tonks' grip, "…when people like this show up and…you just have to go."

"Go?" Tonks asked, "Go where?"

"Away," he breathed, "Away. For a while. Sometimes forever. Lived up in Ireland for a while. I was told they were more welcoming and then I…I crossed paths with the wrong man. And I left. Never been back since."

Tonks stopped gripping Remus' hand, trying to figure out what he was saying, "You're…you're…_leaving_?"

He shook his head, "No. I mean…I should…but I can't…I just…" Remus rose again and started his pacing, "I don't know what to do."

"It could just be Scrimgeour," Tonks tried again.

"And if it's not?"

"You forget you have the Order on your side," Tonks attempted at smiling, "Sirius is quite a fighter and I'm not too bad with a wand myself as you might remember."

But Remus didn't brighten up at this. His head continued to hang and still, he went on pacing. If anything, this news brought him even farther down. Remus stopped at the dresser and leaned against it before deciding to address Tonks, "You're far too trusting, Dora," he said, "The Order…is full of good people. They are dedicated to fighting Death Eaters but they're not all…dedicated to werewolf activism as you might think."

"So Dumbledore will make them!" Tonks was creating an angry fist now, crumbling the note in her hand. When none of this made Remus talk, she said, "Where would you go? Back to the wolves? Just away? To separate yourself? How much safer are you going to be out there by yourself?"

"I don't want to go anywhere but-"

"But what, Remus?" Tonks demanded, "You're always throwing yourself into some death trap. Over what? Scrimgeour's stupid talk and a stupid letter? Please tell me you're not really thinking of leaving. Have you told Sirius any of this?"

Now Remus was rolling his eyes, "And what would Sirius have to say about this?"

"He'd probably tell you you're an idiot if you leave," she stared him down hard, "_Please_ tell me you're not going. Wait. Just wait. It could just be Scrimgeour."

He couldn't meet her eyes when he said, "I usually just go."

"Well, you didn't have Sirius for all those years and you didn't have me," Tonks huffed, "And we won't let you go. You can't just run away like that."

Without meaning to, Tonks had set something on fire inside of Remus. A wave of something broke out and he was pushing himself off the dresser to stand at full height. He stared intently at her and said the words very clearly, even forcefully, "I don't run away. I never run away."

Tonks raised an eyebrow, "I just mean you just-"

"No," Remus said harshly, "I don't run away. You can't say I run away because I don't. I have never run away."

Blinking, Tonks had no idea what to say, "I…I didn't mean…I just thought…"

But Remus was walking towards the door and was gone before she could think of what to do. The heavy sound of his angry footsteps trailed up to his room where Tonks still stood there, a bit afraid of what she had just seen. Below she heard Sirius remark about Remus finally being out of bed but heard no reply from her beloved. Quickly, she collected herself and realized the letter was still in her gripped hand. Part of her wanted to tear it up but instead Tonks laid it back inside its enveloped and left it on the dresser before following in Remus' wake.

When she made her way to the kitchen, he and Sirius were at the table, busily eating but Remus still had a look of dislike smeared across his face. Tonks wondered recklessly what she had said to upset him so. She attempted to sit and eat something with the two and while Remus did perk up a bit, there was still a very distant air about him. They shared a loose hand squeeze before Tonks said her good byes, insisting it was late and she was tired.

Their late dinner passed mirthlessly before Sirius excused himself to another round of torturing Kreacher. He had attempted to pick at Remus for what was bothering him but he quickly learned that Remus simply wasn't giving.

The next day, Remus was in this mood again. Now instead of being cooped up in his room, he sat in the kitchen. He kept his one hand in a pocket, desperately holding the box, as if his life depended on it and in a way, Remus felt it did. His mind ticked away at what he could do if he just pawned the box off or sold it away to someone else. Sitting at the table now, Remus was bitter with filled with an anger he didn't let show too often. But years and years of picking had made Remus sore and (despite his desperate attempts to hide it) bitter at times. It was a red eyed beast that lurked within the pit of Remus' stomach and liked to remind him of just how unfair life had been to him.

Still he sat there and continued to hold onto the box as if throwing it away for some coins meant throwing away what it meant. It was just a box with just a simple treasure inside. It didn't really mean anything. But now as he battled his own rage and resentment, Remus felt that little box (and all its possibilities) meant the world.

Thoughts were cut short then though when from the fireplace came a small voice.

"Sirius…?"

Remus turned to the fireplace where a small patch of green flames had erupted and there in the middle of them was the face of Harry Potter.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Good Golly Miss Molly_

His foot was on hers. Tonks looked up and across the table to find Remus' eyes on Kingsley who was still talking—always talking. But that was definitely his foot on top of hers. This wasn't footsie; this was pressure, a message. Remus grabbed his mug of coffee and allowed for one quick look at Tonks. They're eyes met for a half of a second and it became clear he was trying to tell her something. He didn't let up the whole time Kingsley talked. Even after Moody had taken over and even during the bitter spat that broke out between Sirius and Bill, Remus' foot was still down on Tonks', as if holding her in place.

_Don't go?_ She thought. Maybe that's what he was trying to say.

At one point, Sirius got so angry that he threw his cup of coffee. It crashed against the wall and in a huff he stormed off. It was only then that Remus withdrew his hold on Tonks and left the table to follow Sirius.

Bill was sitting back in his chair, looking both proud and a bit frightened, "You agree with me, yes?" he asked the group.

Tonks had no idea what any of them had been talking about. She threw out a few quick words to make it seem like she was totally on top of things but then fell silent again, listening to the sounds of Sirius' heavy footsteps above them. Tonks knew Moody's magical eye at times fell angrily on her. He had an uncanny way of knowing when her mind was not where it should be. He could almost see the thoughts in her mind as they drifted away from Headquarters and fell elsewhere.

The meeting drew on and Tonks tried her best now to pay attention now despite how monotone Bathsheba Boxwood could be. She was talking about inferi for whatever reason—about how to keep them at bay, as if they were an issue at the moment. Things ended and Molly assembled everyone into the kitchen for some dinner. It wasn't until the group was well into eating that Sirius and Remus returned from upstairs. Sirius still appeared huffy and sat at the far end of the table, farthest away from Bill but even appearing to be upset with Remus who took a seat across from Tonks. Chatter continued even though neither men took part in it.

Of course Tonks' mind wandered back to a few days earlier—Remus with his tight fists and narrowed eyes. He had appeared almost as angry as Sirius which was a feat. While he hadn't shown Tonks that same irritation since, he whole demeanor appeared distant. He hadn't come to her flat since and whenever she had made a visit to Headquarters, Remus was always mysteriously away. This wasn't entirely surprising or anything to get worked up over—Remus was rarely at home. It seemed whatever task the Order needed done, he was there for them. Even after the death of Guthrie Blasamore, the Order still seemed ready and willing to use Remus for whatever was needed. His absence was still odd and the moments when Tonks and he were together felt hallow almost.

But his foot was on hers again. His eyes stared at the pot roast before him but his foot was clearly digging into Tonks—clearly something not to be unnoticed. Tonks couldn't believe this was meant to be romantic for it almost felt as though Remus was aiming to stomp her toes. She wasn't wearing her boots today but simple flats and that underneath Remus' rubber soles was a bit painful.

Turning to her stewed potatoes, Tonks pulled her foot out from under his and began to return the favor—digging her pointed toes into his laces. This made Remus look up for a moment and he then allowed himself to catch Tonks' confused look. He gave what was sure to be a nod and then removed his foot from her reach.

A few more bites and then Remus excused himself, exiting towards the staircase and disappearing up them. Tonks followed suit and ate for another minute, stuffing what food was on her plate into her mouth and then declaring herself to be finished. She yawned and announced she would be going home now before retreating to the door but with the lot's attention turned towards their food, it wasn't hard for Tonks to dash up the stairs quietly.

He was up on one of the narrow landings—some three stories above the chatting guests—leaning up against a wall and looking stricken, sick even. The usual shabbiness of Remus' appearance was paled in comparison to his stark compaction; there was something deeply troubling him, terrifying him even.

Tonks walked to him, "Hello there."

"Hello," Remus answered back, a small smile followed.

"Are you alright?" She said, sliding her hand into his. It was wet, slippery with a cold sweat.

His response was surprising. "No." Such a statement of truth was odd for someone as hidden as Remus was. And then he said it, "There's been another murder."

The silence that followed was thick. Tonks couldn't help but stare while no words could escape her.

Remus continued, "There's been another murder. Glasky. Aiden Glasky. Murdered last night in his home. Shot in the head. With a silver bullet."

"But…but…" Tonks stammered, "They don't think you have anything to do with it, right?"

The look on Remus' face answered her question.

"Moody came calling this morning," he said and made the smallest of grimaces. Tonks knew or could at least guessed that Moody's visit this morning was probably just as pleasant as the last one he made to Remus. Still he continued, "Glasky worked for the Ministry. Some junior under secretary. And he voted in favor of that Tagging Act some months ago. The Tagging Act, it's how Scrimgeour can have files on goblins and giants…and werewolves."

Tonks stared, "But that's just a coincidence, right?"

As soon as she had said it, Tonks knew she shouldn't have. Remus' eyes narrowed he jumped off the wall to stand tall at his full height, "Of course it's just a coincidence!"

He managed to stop himself before the anger and fear could say any more. Turning away Remus tried to shake it off and away for now the bitterness was giving way to shame again. He apologized and Tonks accepted it earnestly. Her mind quickly went to other questions on her mind, "What are you going to do? I can talk to Moody."

Remus was still refusing to meet her eyes, "He won't listen-"

"He's an idiot!"

But Remus refused to listen to her. He turned quietly to his beloved, still white faced and apparently ill, and whispered, "I think someone is out to get me."

Now it was Tonks' turn to look nauseated, "What are you going to do?" she repeated herself even though she already knew the answer. "You're going to leave, aren't you?"

"Just for a while," Remus answered.

Tonks' hand wound itself back into Remus' tight fist, "Why?" she pleaded.

"Just for a while. If I go and if the murders continued, I'll have a strong alibi at least," he wasn't looking at her now—he was still refusing to meet her eye. Tonks could only squeeze his hand tighter.

"Just for a little," Remus went on.

"With the wolves?" Tonks tried to pull him to look at her but he wasn't giving, "You've going back to the wolves?"

"Kill two birds with one stone," he sighed, "Help the Order and clear my name."

He wasn't looking at her. He was refusing to. Why was this commonplace with Remus? Why did he think he could just slip away like he did before? Just slip a letter under the door. Just meet her once and give a halfhearted goodbye. His hand and brow were wet with sweat and anxiety. There was so much that he wasn't giving. The stories were there. Untold stories Remus kept within him about where he had spent the majority of his life and how he had managed to survive without friends. Tonks hoped now more than ever he would tell those things to her—whisper in her ear all the things she didn't want to know but couldn't bear to stay away from. It was a giant gaping hole in who Remus was and she wanted to see what was in it.

He spoke then, "You don't like the idea." It was obviously a statement. Not a question. There was nothing to question about this situation.

"I hate the idea," Tonks said, "But I also know there's no talking you out of it. You and your self-loathing ways."

She couldn't help but to touch his face—rough and prickly still from days gone unshaven. Turning his face towards her own and making him look her in the eyes, Tonks begged one thing, "Just come back in one piece. Please."

He didn't have to answer but instead touched her mouth gently with his own. If he had had any plans of turning away and abandoning her for the sake of clearing his name, Remus had either dropped them or was the best actor in the world for now his entire attention was turned back onto Tonks. Her arms around his waist. Her warm breath. Her skin. The woman was like sunlight. The woman was exactly like sunlight.

Board on the stairway creaked and instinctively the two lovers jumped apart from one another. There was no reason to keep what they were doing a secret. The worst thing that might have happened would be a roll of ht eyes from Moody so generally Tonks often wondered why they were still unable to meet romantically like this. Maybe it was just hardwired into their nature by this point. A month or so of nothing during the day only to be met with kisses and pet names at night. Whatever the reasons, Tonks and Remus played their parts well and waited anxiously as if having been caught already. The sounds grew louder and soon enough Molly was in sight with a sorrowed look on her face upon seeing Remus and then a quizzical one upon seeing Tonks.

"I…uh…oh, Tonks, dear," Molly said, "I thought you had left."

Tonks made the quickest of glances over to Remus as if the answer lied with him. She remembered then she wasn't good at thinking on her feet and thus stupidly said, "I was. I did. I left."

Molly raised an eyebrow, "And then you came back?"

A dumb silence fell over Tonks as her brain tried to think of something. Everyone knew Tonks and Remus were friends so would telling her a simple story about returning having forgotten something and mysteriously ending up on one of the top landings alone with Remus seem plausible? Molly's face was turning into a sly smile and Tonks was running out of possible answers to offer her.

Luckily Remus spoke up them, "It's all very simple, Molly," he said. All eyes fell on him as he spoke very clearly a possibly a little too loudly—as if hoping the guests downstairs would hear him, "You see I am in love with Nymphadora Tonks."

The statement nearly made Tonks jump out of skin. The effect was the same on Molly who seemed to give a small shriek and covered her mouth with her hands.

"And unless I am mistaken," Remus went on, "I believe she is in love with me as well."

Almost immediately Molly was throwing herself at the pair of them, pulling them into a bone crushing hug and wailing while simultaneously giggling wildly.

Tonks stared down at the plump witch, "Molly? Are you…are you crying?"

"Sobbing more like," Remus laughed.

Molly managed to pull away and tried to collect herself. She attempted some words but when none seemed to come, she merely hugged Tonks and Remus all over again, this time making it even tighter and warmer.

The first understandable words out of Molly were, "_Why didn't you tell me? _How long has this been going on? Oh, bless you! I knew it! I knew it! The moment I saw you two together," she pulled away and stared at Tonks and Remus with a grin wider than anything, "The moment I saw you two together, I looked at Arthur…I looked at Arthur and I said, 'You just watch, Arthur. Those two. They look good together. They look good.' Oh! I knew it!"

A small crowd was forming landings below—brought out of the kitchen by Molly's screaming and led eagerly by Sirius who was smiling for the first time all evening. He smiled like a proud papa—like a father who couldn't help but laugh and grin at the joy of seeing his son who had finally become a man.

::::

They sat there and stared at her—both knowing something was heavy on Tonks' mind but unable to make her spit it out. Ted tried his best to be good humored while simultaneously keeping Andromeda from simply demanding what Tonks was beating around the bush about. It wasn't really like her to come and visit her parents. That itself was a feat. Ever since moving out and getting a feel for "the real world" Tonks had been determined to prove to Andromeda and Ted that she could in fact live on her own. What's more she had found this new freedom exhilarating and felt no need to stifle it by returning to the prison of her youth very often.

But now she was sitting there in the kitchen with a cooling cup of hot chocolate and words she had to say. She stared nervously at her father and then her mother. Usually a girl should be afraid to tell her father these things but Tonks had a feeling he would understand it better than Andromeda would. But his prying eyes didn't help.

How does a girl walk up to her parents and simply tell them that she is now is a full blow relationship with a werewolf and has been for over a month now and has merely refused to tell them about it for the sake of fun and for fear of what they would say? Tonks shifted in her seat nervously. She hadn't seen Remus in days—not since the episode with Molly. She really had no idea where he was so the idea of Ted doing some brash father like thing such beating up the man who dared to take out his daughter was next to impossible. Remus being as far away as possible seemed almost a good thing right now. Tonks looked to Andromeda.

Oh god. What would _she_ say?

Luckily (or unluckily) something interrupted everything. A thick cloud of smoke shaped much like a buffalo entered the kitchen at that moment. It sped across Andromeda's kitchen floor and merely said, "Headquarters. Now," in Moody's usual less than cheerful tone. Tonks looked up at her parents. Andromeda was almost horror stricken as if the patronus had been a death sentence to her daughter. Ted gave a wry grin before saying, "Go get 'em, Dora."

Tonks left her parents' house feeling she had evaded tragedy…at least for a little while.

Kingsley was outside Headquarters when she got there and he knew just as much as she did. The pair shuffled inside and heard the usual barking orders of Moody from the kitchen. To her great surprise only a select few had been called there for the day's mission. To her pleasant surprise it was Remus whom Moody was talking to. Upon entering the kitchen, Tonks and Kingsley drew Moody's attention towards them. Instantly he began talking but Tonks focused only on Remus who appeared to be alright. A few days with the wolves had taken little toll on him and he could even manage a large smile when he looked Tonks' way.

But Moody wouldn't allow words to be said. He gathered the group—himself, Tonks, Kingsley, Sirius and Remus—around the table and spat out, "We just received word from Severus. Potter seems to think that Voldemort has got Sirius at the Ministry."

All eyes fell on Sirius.

"Obviously he was wrong," Moody continued, "Don't know why he thinks that but now Severus is telling us he can't find Potter. He and some of his pack are missing."

"Some of his pack?" Kingsley spoke up. 

"Weasley. Granger," Moody explained, "The usual."

"You think he's heading to the Ministry?" Tonks asked.

Sirius nodded. He was biting his lip and appeared somewhat tight and very angry, "I bet he saw something…bet he dreamed something…and…"

"The point is," Moody cut Sirius off, "We're going to the Ministry. Now. Kingsley and Tonks will take the main entrance. Remus, you're in the visitor's. And-"

"I'm coming!" Sirius yelled then, "I don't give a damn what you say, Moody. I am coming. Harry needs to see that I'm okay."

There might have been an awkward silence or possibly some kind of argument had Moody not been pressing so hard for action. He merely nodded and demanded then that Sirius stick with him as he stealthed his way into the Ministry. Tonks didn't have time to ask what that meant before Kingsley was pulling at her to go and soon enough they had apparated to the Ministry.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_The Invisible Man Part II_

There were no dreams while she slept. It was a thick sleep that was broken when she opened her eyes and saw blatantly orange daisies staring at her. They sat in a pot, bending in their stems a bit, and the first thing Tonks thought was that they looked sad. Despite their bright color, the flowers looked utterly depressed—dead even. And then her father was there. Ted stood by the night stand where the flowers sat and stared at his daughter.

"Hello there," he said, "How are you feeling?"

Maybe it was the flowers. Maybe the flowers had told her. The smell of the hospital mixed with the dead flowers. Something made Tonks know that it was true. She continued to stare at the daisies, "Someone is dead, aren't they?"

Ted's eyes rose to someone who was sitting on the other side of the bed. Tonks heard a sniffle and then footsteps as Andromeda walked to her husband's side. She stared at Tonks as well and smiled despite the tears that swarmed about her face, "How are you, Dora?"

"Someone died," Tonks looked at her mother.

The tears continued to fall off of Andromeda but she managed to whisper, "Sirius."

Tonks had awoken as if from a sleep, as if she had simply hopped into bed and fallen asleep. There had been no pain or ache in her head where she had hit. Now the rope had snapped and the weight landed on her chest, pushing hard against her rib cage and squeezing her heart. She could feel exactly where Bellatrix's spell had hit her square in the gut. She could feel where and how her body had hit the rocky floor. A stinging sensation throbbed through her head and for a second, she couldn't breathe.

"Who?" Tonks managed to ask, "Who killed him?"

It looked as if Andromeda would burst into tears again but her voice was strong, "Bellatrix."

Of course. Of course it was Bellatrix. Tonks had let her dear auntie slip out of her grasp just in enough time for her to kill off Sirius. _All Muggle born._ Tonks thought. _All Muggle born._ _But Sirius isn't a Muggle born. Sirius is a pure blood. _It didn't make any sense. She stared up at her parents' faces but they began to swim. Sirius? His cocky wink. His heavy laughter. Slapping Tonks on the back and spouting off something a little off color. Running around and worrying over Remus. His sling shot. His peanut butter cookies.

Tonks could feel her mother's hand enclose around her own. She tried to soothe her daughter and sat on the edge of the bed. For a long time Ted and Andromeda just sat with Tonks, holding her hand and crying but saying nothing. Tonks seemed to have no words. War was here. It was finally at home and alive.

_Sirius?_

Tonks demanded to know everything. She tried hard to recall the last she had seen of him. The five of them running and making their way to the Department of Mysteries. There was Bellatrix. There were swarms of Death Eaters—picking on fifteen year old kids as if they had nothing better to do with their time. Fleets of them it seemed like—like tiny ants. Men and women in black capes. The five members of the Order fighting and pushing. Sirius went right to Harry. Kingsley was taking on two at a time. Moody was…what was Moody doing? What had Remus been doing? It began to mix together like water colors. There was a goose egg or something on the back of Tonks' head and it forced her to close her eyes, aching with thought. Aching with pain.

_Sirius. _

In time, Tonks grew tired of her parents' relentless comfort. Andromeda would just sit there and stare at her as if she feared her daughter would burst into flames. Tonks tried to understand the situation; Sirius was near and dear to her mother as well—best friends almost as children. The closest of cousins. Andromeda was seeking refuge just as much as Tonks was but the closeness was suffocating.

_Sirius._ Tonks thought. She wanted to know about the body but apparently there was no body to be found. Andromeda cried a great deal and at one point tried to hug Tonks in her despair; but Tonks was not so giving. She even went so far as to push Andromeda way but even then her mother wouldn't leave her side. Andromeda sat in a chair beside Tonks' bed and wept quietly to herself, trying not to upset or wake her daughter. Tonks laid on her side, facing away from her mother and tried to sleep. In time she did and when she woke, the shadow of her mother still danced across her bed and onto the wall that Tonks faced.

"I told you that you could go, Mum," she called out as she flipped onto her other side to get a good look at her mother.

But her mother wasn't sitting there. Remus was.

"Oh!" Tonks propped herself up on her elbow, "I thought…I thought you were Mum."

"So I noticed," he said wearily. A grin tried to bloom but his face just wouldn't allow that.

It was the first time they had seen each other since the infiltration of the Ministry and the first real time they had had to talk since the dinner party at Headquarters. Neither Tonks nor Remus, though, could find words. A long while went by with only the scurrying of other patients and a few trace nurses to be heard.

Finally Remus spoke, "You're a hero by the way. I mean the auror office is and you're their star I guess. You and Kingsley and Moody of course. You helped. You saved Harry Potter. The _Prophet_ is going on and on about you three. And Harry and the others of course."

"You were there too," Tonks said, unsure of whether to bring up Sirius yet or not.

There was another attempt to smile on Remus' part but once again it fizzled away into some kind of stoic expression, "I don't look very good in newspapers," he said, "You're prettier. People like hearing about cute aurors who save people."

Tonks shook her head, "I don't care what people like hearing. You were there. And Sirius. He was there too. You're heroes too."

But the conversation was over now. The sound of Sirius' name had awoken something inside Remus; he felt no shame about climbing into Tonks' bed then and folding himself within her arms. He put his face in the nook of her neck and allowed himself to cry. Wrapping his arms around her, and pulled her close he attempted to burry himself within her as if to shut out the events of that week. In Dora was warmth and sweet smiles. It was so different from the world that he usually found himself enveloped in—horrible letters slipped into his pocket, long full moons, excruciating transformations and skeptic looks from the people all around him. They're all unable to take what he says for real. They're all unable to see him as a human. They either run or do what's worse—stand there and stare at him, glaring eyes. And then they take away his friends. Anyone he loves. But here in her arms it might go away.

"I'm _so_ sorry," Tonks whispered, holding his head. She felt him sob, his body shaking with agony. Without the right words to say, Tonks did nothing but held him as he continued to cry. She, herself, held them in; she wouldn't cry. Not now. Her heart ached for Sirius but she knew what he had meant to Remus—his last great friend. This was a moment for Remus and his pain. All she could do was hold him and let him weep. In time, he pulled away, wiping his face but he never apologized. Yet the tears never really did stop. Tonks pulled Remus into her arms again and they sat there for a long while more while she stroked his hair and he fell apart all over again. Some patients and their guests turned to stare at the pair but Tonks ignored them and merely held Remus harder, closer to her and he in return followed her movements, trying to cloak himself inside her. Again, the sobbing began to reside.

A long while went by with just the two of them, uninterrupted by either Andromeda or Ted. Not much was said between the two of them but at that moment Tonks guessed there wasn't much to say. She could only hold his hand and try to keep breathing.

Then Remus took a large breath of air and said, "I need to apologize."

"What the fuck do _you_ have to apologize for?" Tonks was half scolding and half laughing at the same time. What was he doing? What could he be sorry for now? Now was a moment of grief, not of guilt, "You haven't done anything!" she cried.

Still enlaced in her arms Remus said, "But I did…I did do something…I…I yelled at you before. I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow, "You yelled at me?"

"About running away," Remus went on, "I yelled at you. It was pretty ugly. It was horrible. I'm sorry."

Despite how awkward and terrifying the situation had been, Tonks allowed herself to lie, "It's alright. It's wasn't that bad. I've been yelled at before."

Remus wasn't listening though. His head was bent and he to be readying himself for some kind of confession, "I ran away, Dora. Back when…when James and Lily died…I owe a lot to Sirius, Dora. He and James…and Peter…were the first real friends I had. They were my family. They were everything to me."

He turned away from her—not wanting to meet her gaze. Ashamed. Self-loathing. It all was there.

"And I knew…I just…I knew back when that it couldn't have been Sirius who had given Lily and James away…I just…it didn't make any sense…" Remus' head fell again, an act of giving in. He no longer had the strength to carry what was in him or possibly to even go on, "It just didn't make any sense to me…but the evidence…was there and…and I went with it. I sold out…I sold out my best friend…James was dead…Lily was dead…Peter was _dead_…and Sirius had betrayed us all…I knew it wasn't true. But I went with it anyway. I could have helped him," Remus sighed, "But I was a coward. I didn't…I didn't help him.

"But then he came back and I could help him. I could be there for him," he was gripping Tonks' hands, "He was in Azkaban for twelve years. And I could have helped him. I owed him…I owed him, Dora. I owed him and…"

Before he could finish, Tonks had Remus in her arms again. For a while he gave up attempts to speak after that but Tonks pushed on, "Don't think that. Don't. You're fine-"

"I'm not fine," Remus moaned, "Sirius was reckless at the Ministry. He wanted…he wanted a good time…all that time locked up in Azkaban. He wouldn't have been there had I not…had I been there to help him."

"This is not your fault, Remus," Tonks repeated herself.

But he would have none of her kind words, "I'm not just a monster, Dora…" he choked out the words, "I'm a coward. I'm a coward. I've always been a coward, Dora."

"No. You're. Not." she was nearly yelling.

And Remus was yelling right back but his was not like hers. He was yelling in bitterness again, in anger and in hatred. He removed himself from Tonks' grip and yelled, "I am! I've always been a coward! That's what I am!"

"That's not true-"

"Yes it is!"

His screams echoed off the walls.

The look of fear on Tonks' face didn't disappear quick enough; Remus had just enough time to catch it. His shouting had drawn attention and now the entire ward appeared to be staring at him. He turned to meet each of their eyes and once again, Remus was their specimen—a bug with its wings ripped off under their microscopes. A thousand judging eyes on him and the woman he loved apparently terrified of him all looking at the monster that he was.

Flustered, Remus turned towards the door and darted for it; Tonks threw off her bed sheets and ran after him. A nurse promptly took Tonks by the arm before she got to the door and tried to pull her back to her bed. Tonks pushed the woman fiercely against a wall and followed in Remus' wake. The corridor floor was chilly beneath her bare feet and once again, eyes were turning to stare at the pink haired girl in the hospital gown who was running. Tonks saw Remus in the crowd but no matter what she yelled, he continued to brush her off. She picked up speed and ran to him as fast as she could.

Tonks grabbed his arm tightly, flung him up against the closest wall, pinned him there then…nothing. No words. All the anger that had been there was gone. She just looked at him, standing there and looking somewhat pathetic—teeming with a kind of bitterness he had carried for so long but was unable to do anything with it.

"I'm sorry-" he tried to croak out.

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Remus Lupin," Tonks spat back, "You have nothing to apologize for."

But this one, he was adamant about, "You said…you said once before I kept running away from things and I got mad because…it's…it's true. I ran away."

"I didn't mean it," she eased up on her grip on him, "I didn't mean it. I was joking."

"Well, there's a little truth in every joke, huh?" he sighed, "I ran away. That's what I do. I run."

"Well don't run now," she barked.

His face was expressionless, as if he was fighting to keep anything brimming inside at bay, "You forget about Blasamore. And Glasky."

"Well, I'll come with you."

"Absolutely not." 

"Why not?"

"You're not coming with me."

"Why not?"

"Wolves can smell untainted skin half a mile away. You'll be bit…or worse…faster than you can-"

"Then let's not go to live with the wolves!"

"I have to-"

"Why?"

Remus was twitching not, like a lion that had been cornered and was trying to come up with some plan for escape, "Maybe…maybe I don't deserve this. Maybe I'd just screw it up."

"Screw what up?"

"Screw everything up. It wouldn't be the first time. Maybe I belong with the wolves."

"No you don't! You don't have to go, Remus! Why do you have to go?"

And then he said it, blatantly and mercilessly, "Because I just have to, Tonks."

A far off voice came into focus now—the little nurse from Tonks' ward was running as fast as her legs could carry her towards the pair now, calling out, "Miss Tonks! Miss Tonks!" over and over. The nurse soon did reach her and gently took hold of Tonks' arm again as if her patient hadn't bashed her up against the wall just two minutes earlier, "Miss Tonks!" she said, "You can't be up and moving yet. I'm afraid you're far too weak still, dear."

But Tonks wasn't through yet with Remus, "What did you call me?"

Still impassive he said, "Tonks. It's your name, isn't it?"

The nurse was at a complete loss and began tugging on Tonks' arm gently, "Come along, dear," she finally looked to Remus, "Sir, this young lady needs her rest."

Remus nodded, "She's right, Tonks. You need-"

"_Why are you calling me that_?" she was fighting against the woman's grip but years of dealing with uncooperative patients had made the woman stronger than she looked. She pried Tonks off the wall and began pulling her back towards the ward despite the young auror's attempts to get away. In between the struggles, Tonks' eyes found Remus' and desperately searched his face for something—anything.

But the nurse's power was stronger than Tonks' and slowly but surely her tired body was being pulled farther and farther from Remus. The distance between them grew and soon enough Remus was turning and retreating out of the hospital wing.

Retreating.

Running.

::::

"What was that all about?"

Somewhere between it all, Ted and Andromeda had disappeared off somewhere—as if they had seen Remus and thus had run for their lives. Either way Tonks was thankful but now they were back and asking questions. They must have been hidden in the shadows somewhere and managed to see Tonks running down the corridor with only a simple nightgown over her. And of course they thought it strange.

"Is everything alright?" Ted asked.

Tonks had half a mind to sit up, cross her arms and refuse any more words. Her mind was already thick with angry things she was willing to take out on her parents despite the fact they had nothing to do with why she was angry. They hardly knew Remus. They didn't know anything.

And then it hit Tonks. _Yes._ She thought. _They don't know anything._

She focused on her father; he was still staring at her, his eyes soft with worry. "Dora?" he said and Tonks flinched at the name. Cold memories of that sudden cold address Remus had handed her came back to her mind. But now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to talk. Tonks looked Ted straight in the eyes and said, "That man. The one I was chasing. You know him?"

Ted gave a stiff nod, "A friend of yours? I think…he was at the Christmas party this past year, right? Uh…uh…Roger?"

"Remus."

"Remus. Right. What about him, Dora?"

She didn't miss a beat. She wanted to say it before the anger escaped her and with it would go her nerve, "I am in love with him."

Tonks immediately looked to her mother who appeared fine, stoic even as if she hadn't heard a word Tonks had said. When nothing came from Andromeda, Tonks looked back to Ted, whose eyes now were bright and alert, shocked even. "Did you hear what I said? I love him. We have been…together…for a while now."

"How old is he?" were the first words to escape Ted.

"Thirty-five."

Immediately Ted's face scrunched up, like he had tasted something sour. Tonks narrowed her eyes, "If you don't like that, Dad, then you're going to love this next thing: he's a werewolf."

Tonks swore her father flinched at that but she went on, "He's a werewolf. He was bitten when he was just a kid and has been a werewolf all his life. But I don't care. I love him and if I had my way I'd marry him today."

A long silence went by with only Ted apparently trying to think quickly of words to say. He finally managed something, "Dora…I…how long have you-"

"Almost two months now."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"We didn't tell anyone. No one…except Sirius…knew before a few days ago. I want you to know."

"And he's a werewolf?"

"Yes, Dad," Tonks was definite in her words, "He's a werewolf."

Ted's eyes wandered toward the door, envisioning the man he had only briefly glanced at and now suddenly meant so much, "That…that one today?" he asked, "The one…kind of scraggily bloke? He's only thirty-five? Him?"

"Yes, Dad," Tonks turned her attention back to her mother who had remained silent throughout this entire talk, "I love him," she repeated, "We've known each other for a while now and I love him."

To her great surprise Andromeda nodded, still appearing disconnected with the whole thing. But she was explicit and clear when she said, "I know, Dora. I've known for a while."

"You…you knew?" Ted asked, "How did you know? Do you know him, Dromeda? When did you meet him?"

But Andromeda was shaking her head now, the reality of it all coming into focus finally, "I don't think I ever really met him but I knew. Whoever he was…he was…" she looked to Tonks, "Whoever he was…you were infatuated."

"I'm sorry. What?" Ted was walking to his wife now, still terribly confused. He looked to Tonks again, "Okay. Okay. Okay. You love him. Let's say that. Okay. What was the whole fiasco with running after him about? What did he do? What did _you_ do?"

The fact was Andromeda somehow already knew the answer and although Remus had not spelled it out to Tonks, she knew too knew the truth that he had been terrified to speak. Tonks didn't cry (which surprised her) when she said, "He's loves me but he's leaving me."

:::

The best part of the whole experience was Harry's face upon getting off the train. Of course he had expected to see the Weasley's there, eager to greet him but to see half of the Order there as well was a treat. Going home back to Privet Drive was a horror in and of itself but considering the ordeal the poor boy had gone through this year, it was sure to be even worse than usual. So the Order had taken it upon themselves to see him off and give a good talking to the good old Dursley's.

The worst part was everyone else's face. A few trace people could see through it all—Molly in particular. There was something heavy on the air that day and though she immediately wrote it off as that same sullen feeling for Srirus, she couldn't help feeling it was more than that. The summer was upon them all and everywhere you looked there seemed to smiles. But Molly couldn't help thinking just a few of them were far too fixed to be genuine.

Her observations were shared with Moody who (aside from having a great deal of fun picking on the fattest and muggle-est of the Dursley's, Vernon himself) could feel the depressed mood in the air. He was happy at least Harry it seemed hadn't picked up on it. The boy seemed blue enough as it was without added drama. Two months with those damned muggles would leave him even more depressed than he was now so Moody took a great while to just watch the Dursley's walk Harry back to the car and then disappear down the street.

With one child off and on the road, Moody turned to another.

"Tonks," he said and gave a queer look as he greeting made the young auror jump, "You alright?" he asked then.

Tonks' face was pulled into an odd expression, half a smile mixed with a grimace of sorts, "I'm fine," she attempted to laugh, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem odd," Moody replied, "Odder than usual I mean."

He sounded gruff and even insulting but Tonks knew he meant well. This was part of Moody's demeanor and possibly the closest he would ever get to giving genuine compliments or fatherly sentiments to Tonks. The fact he was going this far at least was sweet however.

"I'm fine," Tonks repeated, "Tired. Been feeling odd ever since getting out of Mungo's. You know?"

But the fact was Remus couldn't even look at her. Partially she felt like a puppet for when Harry had been around, everything had been sunshine and rainbows. Everyone was happy. Everyone was on good terms and Tonks had thought she had simply misread Remus' actions in ignoring her once they had met on the platform. While they stood around, greeting Harry and patting him on the back, Remus had even taken to standing next to Tonks and giving her a smile of all things. Like some bug had worked its way into his system but now he was rid of it and ready to get back to where the two of them had once been. But as soon as Harry disappeared with the Dursley's, the play ended and Remus removed himself once again from Tonks. He disappararted quickly and wouldn't even acknowledge when she called his name.

He couldn't even look at her.

So why did Tonks thinks that this was him at the door? It would be like him—to knock. After nearly two months of entering without introductions and sleeping in the same bed as her, it would be like Remus now to knock. To call her Tonks. To retreat back to a time when they could be just acquaintances. But they weren't just passerby's anymore. But he liked to pretend they were at least.

Tonks went to open the door of her flat and in the end felt no surprise in seeing him there.

"Hello there," she said.

"Hello there," he said back.

"Can I invite you in?" Tonks moved out of the way, opening a space for him to enter, "Would you come in or are you not worthy to enter my home?"

Remus stared hard at her, "You're not being fair."

To which she retorted, "Yeah. And you're being stupid."

Nevertheless he entered her home but stood in the middle of the living room and stared around—like he had never been there before, like he was a stranger in a flat that was practically his. He was pulling at the cuff of his sleeve nervously, twitching even. Tonks stood at a distance and asked casually, "What are you doing?"

Remus looked confused.

"What are you doing, Remus? Why are you avoiding me?"

She went to him, to put her arms around him but Remus stopped her, pushed her off even and merely whispered, "Don't. Please. Don't."

The inevitable was upon her and while he hadn't said the words, she knew it was coming. "You're calling me Tonks again," she sighed, "Why? I'm Dora. I've always been your Dora."

He was refusing to say anything.

"Why now?" Tonks said, "Why not? What happened?"

"I mess things up, Tonks," Remus finally spoke up, "It's part of getting bit I guess," he looked to her kitchen area and the various pots she had left sitting out, "You can't go on like this. He was still fiddling with his sleeve, "We have to end it."

Hearing it was unsurprising but still terrifying at the same time. Once again the rope snapped like it had before but instead of crushing Tonks and simply leaving her for dead, it was a ruckus kind of pounding going on—continually over and over again. The sound and the feel of the boulder pushing up against her matched the tempo of her heartbeat and with every breath, it hurt more and more.

"Why?" she begged, "Give me a reason. Give me a real reason. Tell me you don't love me…not that…not that that's something I want to hear but give me a real reason. Not this 'I'm a monster' crap."

"It's not crap," Remus said, "It's fact. My kind don't do this. We-"

"Your kind?" Tonks cut him off, "Your _kind_? What kind are you? You're human."

But even that he was willing to debate. He kicked the ground fretfully and continued, "We don't do this, Tonks. You don't know…I…what do I have to give you? I couldn't provide for you."

"Who says you need to provide for me? I have a job."

"This is not up for debate, Tonks," Remus stated blatantly like some pompous professor; he was filling himself up with hot air and trying to be something he wasn't—indifferent and above it all, "I'm doing this. There is a pack of wolves heading up the coast towards Ireland. I'm going with them. And don't tell me I can't because I am."

"Going with them is one thing but-"

"I'm not coming back," was all that needed to be said before the silence encompassed them both. Remus himself looked as though he had said a cuss word—as if he had not believed in his ability to say the words for real. Upon hearing them once, he felt he should say them again, "I'm not coming back."

Tonks' mouth had gone dry, "But…" she stammered, "But…the murders will keep going and…and…Blasamore will be…it'll be proven that-"

"I don't care about Blasamore. Or Glasky. It will just continue. It will keep going until they have me in Azkaban."

"You have the Order and we'll protect you."

"It will keep going on, Tonks. Forever. That's the way these things work. I can't protect you from the world and I sure as hell can't protect you from myself-"

"But, Remus, the potion-"

"Do you really want to be making me potion he rest of your life? Taking care of me? I can't depend on the Order all my life-"

"Then depend on me! I'll protect you!"

Remus' fixation with his sleeve was growing angry and it seemed he was close to pulling one of the buttons off, "You don't know what's out there. I can't make you face what's out there, Tonks. You don't know. People can hardly talk to me when they find out. You'd be an outcast. I couldn't ask you to devote your life to-"

"But I want to!" Tonks was throwing her arms in the air now, unable to believe how stubborn he was being, "I love you, dumbass! That's what you do when you love someone! You protect them, you dumbass!"

And then Tonks began to sob—bend over and cry as she tried to get words out about how stupid he was being but Remus did nothing to comfort her and refused to even listen. He could only stare and stand at his cold distance and say, "Thank you, Tonks. For the past few months or so. Thank you," he turned on his heel and then was out the door and gone.

Tonks took a breath and charged after him but upon reaching the hallway, she knew she had missed it. The corridor stood empty; Remus had left and he was somewhere far out of her reach.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

_Loveliness Increases _

To make matters worse, it had begun to snow. Trudging through the cold was tedious work and Hermione's temper wasn't helping. There was no path made down from the castle to the village yet so the only way to get anywhere was to sink knee deep into snow and push forward. Feeling rather cross, Hermione kicked frantically at the snow and even let loose a cuss or two when her foot came in contact with a thick piece of snow or even a chunk of ice that hid within.

No one appeared too interested in walking with her at this point and time and that was the one thing that made Hermione happy right then. The majority of people nowadays stayed away from her and it only really presented itself to be a problem now. The snow got shallower and eventually Hermione found herself in the busy streets of Hogsmeade. The patch of students who had been walking (a great distance) behind her suddenly walked past her and went about their business. Some ran off to the Three Broomsticks and a great gaggle of boys headed right for Zonko's. Hermione, however, stood there and realized she had no one with her. She was in fact alone.

The Patil twins brushed past her on their way to Honey Duke's and Hermione's loneliness cooled a bit.

_I don't want to talk to anyone anyway_. She thought as she stumbled through the uneven streets. Everything was still covered in a thick layer of ice and slush. No matter how many times the patrons of Hogsmeade shoveled; it still always came down.

She chose the place she wanted to go carefully. She wanted somewhere where there would be none of those obnoxious students about. She endured their laziness and stupidity enough while in class. Did she really want to waste a perfectly good Saturday being entertained by them? Of course not. This made her list of places to go, however, quite short. No Honeyduke's. No post office. No Dervish and Banges. The deeper and deeper Hermione got into Hogsmeade, the hotter her face got and the more desperate her situation seemed. She even considered just walking to the edge of the Shrieking Shack and looking at it for a bit. That was somewhat interesting and it was probably likely that few students would venture as close as Hermione would. The trouble is that the snow began to fall horribly at that point and bad tempered as she was, Hermione was freezing.

There was only one choice then: the Hog's Head.

It was disgusting and dingy in more way than one and everyone was pretty sure the bottles of packaged butterbeer sold there were dodgy somehow and had probably been tinkered with some time ago. Still it was the one place Hermione could be sure she could have a few peaceful hours to herself—just to think.

She had brought several of her books along but didn't plan to read them. She figured she would stare at the words and attempt to take something in but in the end would merely spend the hours fuming. Fuming was mostly what she did nowadays. But fuming was better than crying.

She was the only student at the Hog's Head and felt like everyone watched her as she entered. It was only then when it hit her that possibly a single girl all alone in the Hog's Head was not a good idea.

Nonetheless she approached the bar tender and said rather bitterly, "One butterbeer, please."

"Two actually."

Hermione jumped at the bright voice behind her and turned to see none other than Tonks, smiling feebly and looking just about as worn out as Hermione.

At least now Hermione felt a bit safer. Still angry but safer.

"Tonks," she pointed out the obvious.

"Hermione," the auror mimicked her and then said, "What are you doing here?"

"I…I fancied a butterbeer," Hermione stammered as she threw the barman some money. Quickly she added that the Three Broomsticks had been packed, "I needed a place to study."

"Of course you did," Tonks smiled, "You're Hermione. Of course you're studying." She attempted an ill rehearsed laugh that sounded more like a cough and for a moment the two girls just stood there, staring at one another, unsure of what to say.

Hermione had slipped a bit into thought during this brief silence that she did not even think to open up her bottle. She slipped so far down that she jumped when Tonks finally spoke up.

"Well, come on, then," she said, "Come and sit with me."

Reluctantly, Hermione followed her to a back table. The two sat and for a minute or two but did not say anything. They drank from their bottles and avoided each other's eye contact. Hermione thought it would be most rude to take out a book and begin reading right in front of Tonks but this silence was quite awkward. It seemed neither of them wanted to really say anything.

_Why did she drag me over here?_ Hermione wondered, beginning to fume a bit.

The silence continued with the only communication being a smile from Tonks at one point followed by a smile from Hermione.

Finally Tonks said, "Like your classes?"

"Love them," Hermione answered, "They're great."

"What are you taking?"

"Loads of stuff. Ancient Runes. Defense Against the Dark Arts. Potions. History. You know?"

"Yeah."

And then the conversation died again.

Hermione noticed that Tonks had just about drained her bottle and thought that might be an opportune moment to suggest buying another round for the both of them—if nothing else, it would get Hermione away from her for a second or two. But fortunately (or unfortunately) Tonks spoke again, "You like potions? I hear you have a new teacher."

Hermione nodded stiffly, "Yes. Professor Slughorn. He's very good."

"Good," Tonks nodded and her forehead scrunched together as if definitely trying to make an effort to think of something, "I heard…I heard some kids talking about him. Very hands on."

"Oh yes," Hermione took a moment to finally finish her bottle, "He wants us to know our stuff. He brought in some samples of different potions the first day. You know? Polyjuice. Felix Felicis. Amortentia…"

It was as if saying the mere word brought the whole experience back to her mind. Fuming and stomping angrily through the snow was no good anymore. Ignoring people and distancing herself from the masses didn't make the facts go away. Hermione folded her hands about her face suddenly and began to sob.

The whole pub turned their heads as if they had never heard or seen a crying girl before. Startled, Tonks reached her arm clumsily across the table to take Hermione's hand and knocked both of their bottles to the floor, smashing.

"Oh god," she said, ignoring the mess she had made, "What's wrong, Hermione? What? Was it…was it something I said? I didn't…I'm so sorry…what? Sweetie, what's wrong?"

Hermione's cries were progressively getting louder and louder but Tonks made no attempt to silence her. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, handed it to Hermione and continued to rub the girl's hand.

"What is it?" she asked again, "Oh, don't shake your head. Who do I have to curse, Hermione? Who is being a jerk?"

Hermione suddenly went silent and she looked straight at Tonks, "Who…who told you?"

"Who told me what?"

"Who told you…what do you mean you're going to curse someone?"

Tonks laughed weakly, "I was only joking. Is it a professor? Harry used to say that Snape bothered him. Is Snape being a pain in arse?"

"It's not school," Hermione shook her head and blew her nose on the tissue, "I feel so stupid. It's nothing. I'm just being stupid."

"No, tell me," Tonks went on, "What? Is it a boy?"

Again, Hermione's eyes went straight to Tonks, "Who told you?"

And again, Tonks laughed, "Nobody told me anything. I'm just guessing. Is it a boy? Is a boy being a jerk to you? If it's that Malfoy twit, you don't have to worry. I can deal with him."

Hermione dabbed her eyes again, "It's nothing."

"Oh come on-"

"It's really…nothing…"

"Puh-lease. You can't sit there and cry and then tell me it's nothing."

"Really, I'm fine. Another butterbeer?"

This went on for a good ten minutes with Hermione denying that anything was wrong and Tonks grabbing her by the wrists and refusing to let her go until she fessed up. After a while of struggling against Tonks' grip, Hermione broke down again but managed to get one sentence out before she lost control again.

"She's just an idiot!"

The entire pub turned again to stare and someone even shouted at the pair to leave if there were going to be waterworks again. Tonks ignored him and stared blankly at Hermione, finally releasing the girl's wrists. Hermione didn't run away, though. She sat rooted to her seat and continued to cry into the already soaking tissue.

"I just don't understand!" she finally yelled between tears, "The girl is such an idiot. She takes _Divination_ for goodness sakes! _Divination_! And thinks it's all true. She's vile and egotistical and just…just…_horrible_!" Hermione fell apart once more.

All Tonks could do was hold her hand and smile lovingly while ignoring the stares and murmurs of the fellow patrons. When Hermione had controlled herself a bit, Tonks went on, "Who are we talking about?"

"Lavender Brown…" Hermione almost spoke in a whisper, "I've never really liked the girl but I never…I never really had a problem with her but…oh my…she and Ron. They've started dating and I mean I'm his friend and I can't help but notice that she's absolutely horrible…for him. He's absolutely become a slob since he started dating her. I'm his friend and I can't just let that happen, can I? They are always kissing every chance they get and I'm sure his grades are falling behind. I can't let that happen, can I? She's made him into a horrible slob. I can't let that happen, can I? I'm just so worried about him. He's destroying himself. He's the laughing stock of the school. She's destroying him! I can't let that happen, can I?"

Hermione took a breath and it appeared as though she would continue. The only reason she did not was the queer look that was plastered across Tonks' face.

"He's my _friend_!" Hermione continued on, "I can't let her…her…ruin him…next year he'll be taking his N.E.W.T.'s and…he won't be ready and…"

"Hermione," Tonks chimed in suddenly, cutting her off, "I think…I mean…is there a possibility that you _like_ Ron?"

For a moment, the two girls stared at each other; Hermione had a look of one who did not understand English and Tonks continued to hide her smile and suppress any laughter. The patrons of the pub turned away, half heartedly pleased that the estrogen had stopped flowing at last.

Their joy was short lived when Hermione suddenly yelled angrily, "Well, of course! It's bloody obvious I like him, isn't it?" and at that, she crumpled into a fit of tears again, ignoring Tonks' comforting pats, she took a breath in and continued on, "And the…the love potion…it smells differently to everyone…it smells like…it smells like what you're attracted to…I knew it…I mean I knew I had liked him…maybe…but I just didn't admit it to myself! And then I smelt that damn potion and I smelt…I smelt…_him!_ I smelt Ron."

The sobbing went on for a minute before Tonks attempted again, "Oh, Hermione," she shook her head, "Do you…do you think he actually likes this Lavender girl?"

"How in the world should I know?" Hermione wiped her face on the back of her sleeve, "Boys. I tell you, Tonks. Of course I look at her and wonder what he possibly sees in her…he could possibly just see a mouth and that's willing to snog him. Boys are so _stupid_! We think we are making our emotions perfectly clear and yet they are like a brick wall. A stupid brick wall! Are they really that stupid or are they just messing with our heads?"

She looked up at Tonks, as if hoping she would have the answer to this question.

Instead of an answer, the auror produced another question, "Well…what did Ron smell like?"

"It wasn't…_him_…it was…I thought of him when I smelt it…I smelt grass that…that had been freshly cut. I smelt that nice smell of a fresh piece of new parchment. And then…oh, you're going to laugh at me…"

"I won't laugh at you," Tonks went on.

Hermione had flushed red now and was refusing to make eye contact with her counterpart. She seemed highly interested in her feet and craned her neck to see them under the table as she spoke, "I've spent…I've spent a fair amount of time at the Weasley house and…I know what he smells like. One time I couldn't sleep and…" her voice suddenly became stern, "Ronald, in one of his few generous moments, offered me his pillow. I don't know why. It seemed silly but I guess it was his way of apologizing for calling Crookshanks a fat tub of lard earlier that day.

"So I slept on the pillow and it smelt…like him. This warm smell. It smelt like his hair looks. Warm and ginger and…and it was as if the potion knew me or something. I mean everyone knows that new parchment or grass smells good but why that _specific _smell? It was utterly frightening."

Hermione went on talking for another fifteen minutes or so, sometimes infuriated, sometimes in tears and sometimes completely stoic in her tale. Tonks went and bought her three more bottles of butterbeer to soothe her apparent deep pain and pacify her anger. Hermione went on about how horrible Lavender was and then there was this Cormac boy with a horrid temper and an eye for Hermione and just how far it seems Ron had fallen. To add to all this, it seemed that Harry was not helping in the least—he was merely being his normal disconnected self which exasperated Hermione to no end.

As though completely out of energy to continue on, Hermione gave a sudden hiccup and completed her story with a shrill cry of, "Boys are so _stupid_." Perhaps it was the butterbeer or perhaps it was how tired she was but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Hermione let her head fall onto the table with a thud.

The silence was very evident as soon as she had finished speaking. Tonks had even stopped laughing and was just looking at Hermione sadly; her smile had fallen limp again.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," she finally said, "You should tell him how you feel if it bothers you so much."

"I can't tell him," Hermione's voice was muffled as her mouth was pressed against the table, "…do you think he would care?"

"He might."

"He won't. Imagine how I would look."

"It doesn't matter how you look," Tonks attempted at a stronger smile, "If you like him, you should tell him. You'll never know until you try something."

Hermione was silent for a moment before she finally raised her head and shook it, "I'm sorry. You don't want to hear my stupid story-"

"Hermione, it's not stupid-"

"You're here working and you have to sit here and listen to me talk about…about my problems. There's a war going on."

"You need to talk about these things whether there's a war going on or not."

Hermione's eyes went to the window suddenly feeling hot with shame. _Tonks must think me the biggest cry baby in the world. Stupid teenage angst_.

Tonks's eyes, however, were soft and she gave another attempt at a smile, "Besides, that love potion stuff is pretty powerful. It'd unhinge anyone. It's good to talk about these things. Us girls need to talk about these things. You feel better, don't you?"

Hermione couldn't deny that she did feel (if nothing else) a little lighter as if the anger she had kept inside had been rocks in the pit of her stomach and now it was merely hot gas. She wished more than anything to turn the subject around though. She hated all this attention on her and was burning with humiliation enough as it was.

"So…" she began, looking up at Tonks, "Have you ever smelt Amortentia?"

Perhaps it had come out wrong. Hermione hadn't meant the question to be a personal one but a professional one. She was sure that in her training, Tonks had encountered various potions of all kinds of degrees. It all seemed quite interesting but as soon as the inquiry had left her lips, Hermione knew she has struck a chord.

Tonks's pupils got quite small. She gave a small nod and quite suddenly, she began to sob.

"Oh…oh my god," Hermione jumped back, frightened, "I'm so sorry…I didn't…what did I say? I'm so sorry! Tonks? What is it?"

The auror attempted on various tries to speak up but was overcome with tears as if these were floodgates that had not broken in some time. She had no more tissues so she grabbed hold of the filthy table cloth and wiped her face on that. Unsure of what to do, Hermione reached her hand across the table and took hold of Tonks's hand. In a small voice she asked, "Tonks? Who do I have to curse?"

Despite the tears, Tonks managed a smile and said, "Please. Don't curse him. I know how good you are with spells, Hermione, and I don't want him cursed. He's just being…himself," she looked up at Hermione and apologized.

"Don't apologize."

As if to return the favor, Hermione ran up the bar and bought another few rounds of butterbeer before returning to the still sobbing Tonks.

"Tell me. Tell me what's wrong," she uncorked a bottle and handed it to her counterpart.

Taking a sip and giving a nod of thanks, Tonks said, "What part do you want to hear? Where I smelt the damn potion or about…_him_?"

"Start at the beginning. Who are we talking about?"

There was a pause, a snort and then Tonks wiped her nose and said softly, "Remus."

The wheels churned for a moment in Hermione's head before she finally realized what Tonks had said, "Professor…Lupin?"

Hermione had only ever viewed him as a teacher and had figured that most did the same—this far off and wise man who possibly didn't have a life outside the job he held nearly three years ago or his Lycanthropy. However, sitting across from Hermione was a woman who (judging merely by the way she had said the professor's name) was completely infatuated with him.

Tonks gave a wry laugh, "Yes. Professor Lupin."

And then it started again. Many of the patrons got up before Tonks had even finished a sentence.

"He is possibly the most wonderful person I've ever met which really isn't saying very much because in my line of work, I really only meet a lot of prats but I mean…he's wonderful and…we were together. For a while. But then he got stupid. He's noble. Damn nobility."

Having said that in mostly one breath, Tonks stopped abruptly and gasped for air.

"He's protecting me," she went on as another patron stormed out and the barman continued to give the two girls a horribly obvious evil eye, "I don't care. I don't care if he's a double…ended…Blast-Ended Skrewt…_whatever_! But God knows it wouldn't be the right thing if he…if we…we can't keep being together…he says…" Tonks gave off her first genuine smile and sighed, remembering the stupid promise he had broken.

"He said he wouldn't come back," Tonks said, "But he did."

Not for her of course but for the Order. Headquarters was rarely used now so the meetings had to be held in locations unknown to many and they often changed. After months of hearing nothing—not even a word or two to say if he was alive or not—Remus suddenly turned up at a meeting at old Mrs. Figg's house. In between tea and crumpets served by the old batty lady and a long discussion on Death Eater movements, Tonks had managed to get a quick moment with Remus to herself. He had stolen away to the loo and upon exiting, there was Tonks. It wasn't the classiest of meetings but at this point Tonks was not picky.

"Hi," she said.

He must have been expecting her because he didn't jump at her sudden greeting. Rather he seemed quite calm and returned the simple salutation. Tonks had told him he looked well and he repeated the compliment even though neither of these statements were true. Both were worn and apparently ragged looking. Deep circles hung under both their eyes as though they had not slept in weeks. Tonks was looking thinner than usual but if her state was something to talk about, then Remus' surely was. Even his hair had lost some of its color—looking almost dirty blond where the gray had not covered it. Some scars had grown more prominent and his face hung in its usual poker face.

Neither had meant for an argument to break out but between two people as stubborn as Remus and Tonks, it was bound to happen.

"I told him," Tonks looked at Hermione and went on, "…I said, 'I would rather be an outcast with you than a respected member of society with anyone else.' Because it's true. How stupid is that? But I…I…"

She stared hard and remembered how Hermione had described her particular beau.

"He's just…warm…he's a warm person…you know?"

Hermione nodded and Tonks proceeded to drink her weight in butterbeer.

Sitting there in the empty pub with only some ten empty bottles between them and lots of shed tears, Hermione could only think of one thing to still ask, "So…what did Professor Lupin smell like?"

The memory swam over Tonks much like it had just happened before entering the Hog's Head that day. She smiled though it hurt fiercely, "Don't ask me why they had some. Training I guess. They had a great vat of it at the office for the apprentices I guess. Dangerous stuff love potion. And I walked past it and I didn't realize what I was until…"

"Until you smelled him," Hermione finished.

Tonks nodded, "You walk into a library, right? You walk into a library and go to where they keep the really old, dusty books. That's what I smelled. Old, dusty books. And I could like see the yellowing paper and everything."

For a long while, neither spoke.

"And then chocolate," Tonks said, "And then I smelt chocolate."

:::

Long ago back when the night and the moon weren't so scary (and even after) Anna used to sing to her son—her husband still out and working late into the night. She would come home and be as tired as anyone—having been up since before the dawn— but still she would want to sit with her son while he was curled up in bed and sing to him. It was always made up songs—stories sometimes about kings, dragons, evil demons and the brave little knight who, despite adversary, went on. The little knight sometimes met with people who hated him. He was from another kingdom, you see, and people of this land were skeptical of outsiders and people they didn't understand. The commoners often shunned the little knight and even on occasion attempted to purge their precious kingdom of him. But Anna made sure her son understood this—the little knight kept going. He believed in his heart of hearts that things had to get better. Those were her son's favorite stories because no matter what happened, the little knight never gave up. He was a winner in the boy's eyes and a hero.

But Anna grew ill over time. Too much work and too little sleep drew her to her bed where she laid and soon after would die. Her son was eight at the time and though he tried so hard to be strong, the evenings were long and hard. The pain and the guilt of it all mixed together and left the boy unable to sleep most nights. He wouldn't cry but he also wouldn't sleep for deep inside, the boy couldn't help but feel he was to blame; after all, his mother wouldn't have had to work so hard if it hadn't been for him. The boy's father ached as well but he too tried to be strong and hard and stone, in order to provide for what was left of his family. He too would not cry.

But he would sing.

He didn't make up stories like Anna had; he was far less clever than his wife so he merely took what he knew—old poetry that he had studied in his younger days. Old muggle poetry. His favorite was Wordsworth but he was not above Shelley or Housman. The father sat at his son's bedside and would make up silly little tunes to put his favorite words to and in time the boy learned many of the poems by heart, had favorites and would even, years later, search out other poems by his favorite poets to expand his repertoire.

One night, curled up on the floor of the tiniest of tents, Remus thought of his father's poetry. He had traded his new cloak for the tent—traded between him and a toothless old wolf who was busying himself by drowning a score of regrets in long neck bottles. The blizzard had stopped but the air seemed stagnant with cold and so he had no choice but to lay there and try to sleep. And think of poetry. And sing a bit to himself. Tonight he was thinking of Yeats.

_When you are old and grey and full of sleep,_

_And nodding by the fire, take down this book,_

_And slowly read, and dream of the soft look_

_Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_

And before he could stop himself, she was there in his mind again. Not his mother but a woman who was just as bright and continually reminded Remus of sunshine.

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,_

_And loved your beauty with love false or true,_

_But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_

_And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_And bending now down beside the glowing bars,_

_Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled_

_And paced upon the mountains overhead_

_And hid his face amid crowd of stars._

But the little knight goes on.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

_Sins of the Mother_

::::

"And what's that got to do with anything?"

"Only that it means you're a right bastard!"

"_Boys_! _Please_!"

Molly threw down the pie crust she was making and retired to the living room, leaving her two eldest sons to fight in whatever way they deemed worthy. She hated it how it always seemed Charlie was able to bring out the worst in Bill. He had a way of picking and picking until his older brother snapped and with it usually came a cuss word or two and possibly a fist thrown. Bill was being stupid enough without Charlie's help.

She decided a trip out of the house was best—to get away from things for a while and do a bit of shopping. Molly rarely left the house much anymore. She was too afraid to. But weeks of being cooped up and a batch of fighting boys had driven her to nerve's ends and herb shopping (even in the midst of a war) sounded lovely. To Molly's great and pleasant surprise, Bill said he'd like to tag along as well. To her even greater and more pleasant surprise, Charlie said he'd stay home. The boys away from one another would give both a chance to cool and with Bill at her side, perhaps he and Molly could have a good talk about certain important things coming up.

When looking for herbs, Molly rarely went to Diagon Alley as the really only suitable place to find what she was looking for only carried the most expensive types of plants—or at least that's how they charged. Only once (and that had been an emergency when Percy some years ago, before his Hogwarts days, had accidently eaten a poison mushroom—Molly was sure it had been a joke played by Fred and George but no evidence had presented itself) had she bought something from Diagon Alley in the way of herbs and remedies. Today instead Molly traveled down the village just a half mile from her home where a lovely little stand sat that often sold the oddest of things. The muggles in the village had regarded the woman who ran the stand as "odd" or even "insane"—they never bought anything or even remotely looked at what that "crazy old bitty" had for sale. But Molly took full advantage of the woman's good nature and excellent prices.

It was snowing but not as cold as the days before so she and Bill walked there and began to dig through some trays of mukweed grass and rolleyberries. In general they had a right good time.

That is until Molly brought up Fleur.

"Please, Mum," Bill pleaded, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Molly protested, "You _have_ to talk about it. This is a big decision. You don't want to talk about it? Why not? Are you not sure you want to marry her? There's no sense in rushing into things, Bill-"

"I don't want to talk about it with you, Mum!" he yelled, "You never listen! You don't like Fleur so you don't want us to get married. That's that."

Molly made a face as she picked through the dried oyster daisies, "Who said I don't like Fleur?"

Bill gave his mother a grimace.

"What?"

"No one has to say it, Mum; it's obvious you don't like her."

This continued on for a while. The one comfort Molly found was that despite how much pestering she was doing to Bill, he was able to maintain his cool with her much better than he could with Charlie. It was lovely to know that no matter how annoying her children might say she was, Molly would never be as annoying as Charlie.

It simply didn't make any sense to her. Bill was a clever, good-looking and decent young man. He had an excellent job and had a billion things going for him. What's more, he had come from a good home that knew the importance of family—knew what it took to make a family work and the need for able people to depend on. Fleur was not able nor was she stable. Fleur was all smoke a mirrors—a mirage of prettiness and vanity that had never tasted hard work in its lifetime. To Molly, Fleur was all cardboard and would simply melt in any oncoming storm. She could dance around as she pleased and pretend she was some kind of brave curse breaker like Bill or that she was a legitimate member of the Order but Molly knew better.

Bill could really have any girl he wanted but he wasn't vain enough to be sucked in by looks. At least that's how Molly thought it was. Now this new fiancé was proving everything wrong. Why her? Why Fleur? Any other girl in the world would have worked but not this flouncing superficial villainess of sorts. Any other girl in the world!

And then the idea entered Molly's brain again. Only a few times before had it pranced over Molly's way and more often than not, she had shooed it off but now she was finding it tantalizing. Molly eyed Bill up a bit. He wasn't bothering to look at her now but merely busying himself with the oyster daisies still.

"It's just that you've been way for so long, Bill," Molly began, "You've been to Egypt and back and here and there and all over the place. You haven't had a chance to…look around."

Bill focused on his mother, "Look around?"

"Yes. You know. Get a taste for English girls."

Fuming, Bill said, "Is this what this is about? Because Fleur is _French_?"

"No, no, no, no, no," Molly cooed, "I mean…you come home and she's the first thing you see. And you've been working. How do you know it's not just…you just really wanted to see something pretty? I mean…there are other girls in the world, Bill."

"I'm sure that's what Grandma Prewett said about you and Dad."

"Your father and I are neither here nor there. We knew each other much longer than you have known Fleur-"

"Not by much," he had his arms crossed now and seemed to be sulking, "Other girls you say, Mom? What other girls? Who would you want me to look into? It's not like that, Mom. I _love_ Fleur. What? You want me to go back to Stephalee Smith from third year? Margot Plesserby from fifth year? How about Hermione Granger? Does she meet your standards?"

"Oh don't be silly, Bill!"

"Well, who do you have in mind?"

Molly frowned. She'd hate to give the same away so soon but if he was asking—maybe he'd been thinking the same thing as she. He _was_ asking for names. Maybe Bill _was_ looking—hoping it wasn't too late. Maybe he was wondering who was still free and who might actually meet be good for him for once. Tentatively Molly gave a wry look to Bill and said, "I was thinking…Nymphadora Tonks."

Unfortunately Bill burst out laughing.

"Tonks? _Tonks_?" he cried, "Tonks-Tonks? Pink hair Tonks? Pig nose Tonks? Duck beak Tonks? You really don't know me, do you, Mum?"

"She is a lovely young lady," Molly protested, "She's smart and kind and a tough young woman, Bill. She could-"

"Fleur is tough."

Molly rolled her eyes.

"She as a Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

"From Beauxbatons! What do they teach there? How to use your wand to curl your hair and making lipstick in your cauldron?"

But Bill was still laughing, "You really don't know my type, Mum!" After the giggles had subsided a bit he managed to say, "I thought she was all over Lupin."

"He's off with the wolves. You know that. Been off with them for _months_ now. Plus he's being…difficult. I thought…"

"You thought I could be rebound."

Now Molly was fuming, "That is not what I said, William Arthur, and you know it!" A few stares caused Molly to calm down a bit, "I thought you could help her and she could help you. You've both so alike I think. And I think she's a wonderful girl."

"She's not the girl for me," Bill said.

"Have you even tried?"

"Mum, I don't know how many times I have to tell you: _I love Fleur_. She is who I want to be with. Is she rough and stocky like what you want? No. But she's solid and to me she's perfect."

That was all very romantic for Bill to say but it hardly swayed Molly's opinion on the matter. Fleur was a veela after all—she was bred to hear such declarations of love. Never mind the fact that her sentiments did not match his. To her marriages were a dime a dozen; she was still young and probably intended the squander her way through any happy family with her looks. This was the way of vanity. It's what happened but somehow Molly was going to put a stop to it.

"Why don't you set Charlie on her?" Bill asked as they walked to little stand where they would pay, "He's single."

"Don't be stupid, Bill," Molly sighed, "It's not so simple as you say. I just thought you and Tonks…like I said, you have so much in common I thought," she set her bag, now stuffed with herbs and dried flowers of every kind, up onto the table as the little old woman behind it began to shuffle through it. "Besides," Molly went on, "Set Tonks up with _Charlie_? I'm not that mean of a person, am I?"

But Molly wasn't through yet. A day or so later in between taking care of the house and hosting a certain Order meeting (attended by a select few—only including Kingsley and a few other wizards Molly had never met before) she found her way to Hogsmeade. It was a Wednesday morning so the children were most likely busy with their studies; Molly wasn't about to disturb them but she did find time to disturb the Three Broomsticks where a very sullen looking Tonks sat.

"Tonks! Hello, dear!" Molly called as she seemed to dance her way across the room.

The young witch smiled, "Molly," she even stood to hug her, "So good to see you. Sit. Please. I won't be staying long, though. I've got a beat to cover."

Still Molly sat and the two chatted for a while—neither wanting to touch on serious matters at hand but rather things like how horrible the weather had been lately or the price rise over at Honeydukes. Molly was sure it was because of the war and Tonks remarked that she was surprised so much of Hogsmeade was still in business considering the poor shape Diagon Alley was in.

"It's the students I wager," Molly smiled.

"I wonder how much longer they'll let them come down to visit on Saturdays," Tonks nodded.

And such was the conversation.

But in time Tonks had drained her glass dry and was standing, "I really should go."

Molly too was rising and saying, "I should as well. Oh, but, dear, walk me as far as the end of the street, will you? I just want to see the town a bit but would feel safer with an auror at my side."

Tonks allowed this much, never guessing what was up Molly's knitted sleeve. She had no idea of anything until they got outside and Molly remarked, "You shouldn't be so glum, Tonks, dear."

To which Tonks could only give Molly a queer look. Not look so glum? Weren't there plenty of things to be glum about? Plenty of things to worry about? Molly of all people should be the glummiest of the two—the biggest of the worry warts. What was she talking about now?

"I do wish you'd smile, dear," Molly went on, "I mean it."

"You want me to smile more?"

Molly quickly cut in with a new thought, "I was just talking to Bill the other day…" she did a swift little turn to Tonks as if to definitely catch her attention, "You remember my son, Bill, right?"

Tonks nodded, "Yeah. We know each other."

Molly linked arms with her counterpart and continued to walk with her, "Anyway. I was talking to Bill and I was telling him…he was looking rather glum as well…but I was looking very glum if you can imagine that. But he managed to smile and tell me the funniest joke the other day. Would you care to hear it? It went something like…three men walked into a bar. One ducked."

With the punch line out, Molly stopped to make sure Tonks had caught it. When no laugh escaped her—only another queer look—Molly went right on explaining it and detailing her made up story. How she herself hadn't gotten it at first but Bill, who was _so_ clever and _so _very kind, went on to talk about puns and play on words. Molly stopped once more to check Tonks' expression after the story was thoroughly done.

Tonks raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought Bill was engaged to Fleur."

Molly took a step back, "Well…he is. Why do you ask that?"

"If he's engaged to Fleur, why are you trying to pawn him off on me?"

Feeling her face go hot red, Molly searched frantically for the right words, "I didn't…I wasn't…I would never do that, dear! I just thought…you look so unhappy-"

"Well, I am unhappy," Tonks laughed.

"I understand, dear. I just thought…life is too short, Tonks," Molly took the young witch's arm again, "Life is too short to be so glum."

"There's a war going on," Tonks said, as if that were why she was upset, "Forgive me for not being rainbows and butterflies."

"I completely understand. But…oh, Tonks!" Molly cried, "I just…"

"You just wanted to set me up with your son," Tonks finished the sentence for her.

At first Molly fought it—threw out a dozen lines that sounded much like, "Oh no!" and "I would never do that!" But Tonks gaze wouldn't give up. She stopped walking with Molly until the woman finally began to bow her head in defeat.

"I…oh, I'm sorry, dear. I didn't…I mean…it's _Bill_!" Molly said, "He's engaged to Fleur but the girl…the girl is just not right for him and he can't see it…and I thought…oh, Tonks, I just thought you're unhappy and he's unhappy and I thought…I thought maybe things would just work out."

Tonks made sure her point was clear, "Don't do that again, Molly. Please. Just. Don't."

Despite her words, Molly still wasn't through yet, "I'm sorry, Tonks. I am," she said, taking a good look at Tonks' face—paler than it usually was and worn with worry, "Oh, dear. I just didn't think…maybe it's time, Tonks, to accept things for what they are," she was panicking now, "Maybe it's time to accept that…maybe Remus isn't coming back. I just…I didn't think this was still…such an issue."

Immediately Molly knew she had said the wrong thing. Some kind of anger had billowed up in Tonks' eyes and for a second Molly thought the young witch might actually strike her. Because of that, she jumped a good two feet out of the way when Tonks withdrew her wand form its holster. But Tonks didn't point it at Molly but rather up in the air.

"Expecto Patronum."

The Patronus leapt from the end of wand like it had been waiting there for some time, ready for an opportunity to run. But it was different than before when Molly had seen it—over a year ago back at Headquarters, the lot of the Order Members showing off their Patronuses: Sirius with his happy and frantic dog, Remus with his swooping raven, Arthur with his little Jack Russell Terrier, Kingsley with his lynx and Tonks with her lanky and clumsy flamingo.

But this time it was different. Bigger. It danced down the street and the few people that were there stopped to stare. One even threw himself under a cart for the patronus was rearing its long, narrow muzzle back as if baying at something unseen.

And then it howled.

The wolf made one more broad dash across the street and then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Anyone who hadn't been scared out of their skin turned to its conjurer and it became clear why the patronus had disappeared as quickly as it had come; Tonks stood there, a wand in one hand, her other hand in a tight fist and a flood of tears trailing down her cheeks.

::::

He couldn't find the man he was looking for so Scrimgeour had to pick on someone else. This one was new to the scene—possibly unaware of the stigma that followed his new found kind. This one was out in the open, asking any health physician or medicine man what to do. Was there a potion that could cure it? Was there something he could do? Why had something so horrible come upon him now? It was all too easy to find him. Beauregard Bessie was his name and before the apprentices at the Auror Office could put together a file on him, he was in custody.

He sat, quivering on a chair, looking rather ragged and wearing no shoes to speak of. He couldn't bear to meet the head of auror's eyes (as Scrimgeour had at this time left to be Minister of Magic). The poor man shook, terrified as what seemed to be a thousand pairs of eyes stared down on him. And then the head of the office laid down two pictures in front of Beau—one of a plump man, wearing a fur lined robe and the other of a younger looking man, rather tall and covered in toned muscles.

Beau stared up at his accuser, "Who is this?"

The auror pointed to each picture and gave them names, "Guthrie Blasamore. Aiden Glasky. And you murdered them."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

_The Experiment Part II_

There aren't many women werewolves. Apparently (so the rumor goes) women taste better than men—less muscle mass and so forth—so wolves are more likely to just eat them instead of a simple bite. So the rumor goes. Either way it's odd to stumble upon one of any age. This one was old—elderly maybe. Her hair was pearly white and she was bent over. And that was before the other wolves began beating up on her.

She was laying face first in the snow when Remus stumbled upon the lot. Her blood was all over the place—the snow had turned red and he thought for a second she might be dead. But not only was she still alive but this woman was not going down without a fight; she kept picking herself up and tossing herself at her adversaries as if she were a match for the macho, muscle ridden wolves. One gave her a good punch to the jaw and a loud crack was heard. It was then Remus stepped in.

Amused that he was doing so, the wolves had a good time beating Remus up instead. Soon traces of his blood were joining that of the old little woman's. It wasn't until he was bent over, heaving up what little breakfast he had had that morning that the brutes let up. For good measure, one gave Remus a swift kick to the gut and walked on, leaving him and woman there to catch their breath and bleed.

After a while Remus pulled himself to his knees and looked to his counterpart. Her jaw was at a funny angle and one of her legs was twisted. He drew his wand and uttered a few incantations before the bitty's mouth and legs fell miraculously into place suddenly. She sat up and held her face, opened it and gazed oddly at Remus.

"How…how…did you do that?" she breathed heavily still.

It hit Remus then that she was obviously a muggle. It was one thing to be a witch or wizard and be bitten—in a world that may hate werewolves to the extreme but it at least knew of their existence. Muggles, on the other hand, seemed to adamantly believe such things didn't exist at all.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked, holding out his hand to help the woman up.

But instead of seeming grateful she gave a huff and pulled her own weight to her feet—obviously excusing whatever he did. Obviously she hadn't broken her jaw or leg at all. She had only assumed she had.

"I…I had things covered!"the woman spat.

"Sure seems like it," Remus managed a smile.

But this woman was not smiling, "I had it covered!" she said again. She stared around at her body as if to assess the damage and then gave Remus an odd look upon realizing she hadn't any scars or wounds to speak of, "Didn't need you to step in like that!"

"I'm sorry-"

"I had it covered!"

"I'm sorry. I just-"

"It's taken me weeks to get accepted into their group! Now you stepping in probably just ruined it."

Remus looked at her sternly, "You haven't been accepted. You were never accepted. They might tell you that you are but you're never really. It's best just to-"

"And what would you know about any of this stuff?" the woman looked absolutely livid.

"I, ma'am, have been a werewolf since I was six. When were you bitten?"

But the woman wouldn't answer so Remus simply continued, "It's best to live on the outside. Follow their movements and don't let them catch you. There might some trace stranglers who might help you out—give you some food, trade things with you—but you'll never be one with the head honchos. Not unless you've got something to offer them."

The woman was eyeing him, "Offer them?"

"Food, access to revenge or sex."

Her eyes went wide and Remus continued.

"Simple as that. You've got food? Don't think so. You've got contacts to the ministry? Don't think so. You want to sell your body? Go right ahead. I bet they're pretty desperate."

"Excuse me!"

But Remus was walking away now. He vanished with a pop and the old muggle woman was left to rub her eyes and tell herself the whole thing had been a dream.

::::

Remus was sure he shouldn't have been so cross with her but living amongst the wolves makes one's patience run thin—especially after one has just saved your life and taken on fresh scars for you. The weather wasn't helping either.

There was one man who lived among the pack Remus had been following lately. He was allowed to live among the pack leaders because he offered his talents for seeing into the future—a very well studied divination student it seemed. Remus often speculated that the man gave sex to the leaders as well for he was often seen among their tents at night and was by far the best fed among the pack's lower class citizens.

This young man had given predictions that heavy and terrible snow storms were on their way. For twenty days he said. It was day five and so far the man had proven himself right. Every night beginning around dinner time, a mighty wind blew through the dense forest, sending every wolf into his tent. There he would stay put and wait out the storm. The pack leader's tent was large enough to hold several dozen people and they often had entertainment going on despite how horrible the storms got.

Remus, on the other hand, owned a tent that inside was rather like the size of a closet. He had just enough space to curl up on the floor, bent over and try to sleep. From the outside, it barely stood two feet tall—Remus had to crawl on his belly to get inside. The tent was easily hidden from view, making staying out of the wolves' sight easier but the long winter nights were a good reminder of how bad Remus had it.

He never left his tent anywhere but rather carried it with him in his backpack wherever he went. The weather was just turning stormy when he found his usual spot and began to pitch the tent up. Across the way in an open field he could see a congested group of tents with one in particular in the center of them all. Even through the thick snow, Remus could hear sounds of a kind of celebration going on. Perhaps someone had raided a nearby farm and tonight the wolves would be feasting on stolen chicken but not before a much loved cock fight. Those that had wands would bewitch the chickens or roosters (whatever was managed to be stolen) to fight one another to death. It was much like battling remote controlled cars.

But Remus was not invited to such things—in fact his existence was not even known to the wolves in that far off tent now. He was curled up in his tent wearing the only clothes he owned and trying with all his might to sleep. But the storm went on and the noise grew and try as he might, Remus could find no sleep.

He was shivering and he tried to wrap his arms tighter around himself—thinking longingly of a traveling cloak he had traded off and the only pair of boots he owned of which he had also traded off some months ago for a bit of food that had just recently run out. Remus considered the robe he was wearing now—it was thin and patched in various places but surely someone would be in need of it. Perhaps he could get some more food for it. Even if just for a little bit. Apparently the wolves were moving north still and despite the cooling temperatures that came with movement like that, the deer population grew a bit the more they traveled that way. Perhaps he could manage to shoot something. Remus had never been one for hunting, never talented in that way but desperate times were upon him.

Morning came sooner than he would have liked—the wolves would most likely be on the move now unless they had managed to swipe some kind of spirit and were now in the middle of a hangover. Remus heard no movement so took the time to lay there, perhaps soak up some kind of rest before the pack got a move on again. The storm had died off some hours ago but still (despite how much Wordsworth or Shelley Remus recited) he could not find sleep.

The wind blew a bit and the flap of the entrance to the tent opened, giving Remus a shot of the newly fallen snow outside. He stared and watched, lying ever so quietly. Everything must have been quiet. Even the wolves must have been silent for soon enough a small white rabbit hopped its way through the snow. She began digging at one point and was positioned in the perfect spot for Remus to see. Perhaps he should have been thinking about food and should have reached for his wand to take the rabbit out but instead Remus just laid there and watched the poor thing dig in the frozen earth. Up against some real dirt, she might have appeared pure white but next to the snow, the rabbit had a cream tinge to her.

As if the hunger and freezing weren't enough now the sight of the rabbit had given Remus something else awful to chew on.

Cream.

A lovely cream color.

He didn't want to. He had wanted for a long time to get rid of the damn thing but something wouldn't let him. Remus reached into pocket and felt the box, gripped it tightly in his hand and tried to think about all the money he could get if he just sold it away. Think of the food a good hearted wolf would be willing to give him for such a prize as Remus had now. Sweet food. Delicious food. Something to fill his stomach.

But food gets eaten. Food leaves as soon as it comes. Wasn't this little box worth more than that? Wasn't it about things that didn't leave—that kept going even after one had broken all ties to the things he loved?

A lovely cream color but Remus had no time for such colors and such thoughts. He should just throw the box. Maybe he could toss it just enough that it would hit the rabbit and put it out of its misery. Then Remus would eat it and use the pelt (however small) as some kind of warmth.

But Remus didn't know the first thing about skinning animals. And could he bear to kill that lovely cream color?

It started off as cream at least. But then it grew and became stark white. He could see it when he opened his eyes and looked down at her—his face twisted in puzzlement. Remus pulled away and stared down at her.

"What…what are you doing?" he asked.

"Kissing you," Dora said.

"Oh…why?"

Her eyes had been green that day and her hair had been a lovely cream color. And her smile was wide and her teeth were showing, "Because I want to."

No her hair hadn't been creamy that day. It had started out that way but the more she kissed him, the whiter it got until it was stark and almost glowing. It hurt to relive but Remus closed his eyes and kissed her again even though she was miles away—safe and sound, maybe a little angry but certainly better off than she would be if she was really here in this godforsaken tent kissing him. Remus could dream though and in his dreams he was kissing her and she was kissing him back and he wasn't a wolf anymore and he was whole.

And then that night flashed in his mind. Dora had gone off to bed but she must have heard him coming for when he walked in, she was sitting up as if waiting for him. There must have been something unspoken between the two of them—Remus couldn't remember quite right but he did remember that despite how completely unromantic he had been, she let him touch her. And suddenly he was back with her and she was laughing and he was kissing those knees and hips and legs. It was different, though this time, because she was sitting up now again and pulling off her shirt. Remus didn't know why he was objecting because he wanted her to but didn't know how to voice it.

In dreams tonight, Dora was pulling him on top of her and they were pressing their hips together; the two moved like the ocean tonight. She had her hands entangled in his hair, he was kissing her neck and Dora kept saying something over and over again that at first Remus couldn't make out. He then lifted his head enough so that his ear was perfectly in line with her lips.

"Wonderful…" Dora whispered, "You're wonderful."

When it was over the rabbit was gone. But whatever sound Remus had been making hadn't been enough to scare off the birds who were busy singing sweetly high in the trees. But all the wonderful feelings were leaving Remus now—Dora's memory was turning bitter and painful. Remus once again began to envy the birds.

_To be them._ He thought. _To be carefree._

He craned his neck to see a sweet little yellow bird, high above on a branch—singing away.

_I wish I was a bird._ Remus thought.

At that very moment, however, a great horned owl came out of nowhere, swooped down and caught the bird in his talons, silencing the sweet little thing forever.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

_Men in the Moon_

But Remus' luck was about to change—at least as far as food went. Hunger had driven him to do what he hated: he was going to steal. Finding nothing worth keeping from the wolves he was following now Remus left and found himself some miles outside of Bristol in a little town. After lying doggo for a day or so, just watching the smallest house on the most deserted street of them all, he broke in and ransacked the pantry, taking a few cans of condensed soup, some near frozen carrots and four raw potatoes.

He slid out the back door, locked it magically again and walked off, leaving no trace that he was ever really there. Remus had made it about a block or so away from the house when a voice called out to him saying, "That was pretty slick that was."

Remus' wand was immediately raised and pointed at the speaker who likewise had a wand raised. The man looked just about as ragged as Remus did but not so thin and definitely older. While his clothes were tattered and the shoes he wore were mismatched, he was smiling and his face looked plump even—full of color and alive. He smiled and said, "Don't mean no harm I don't." With that, the man lowered his wand, "Just sayin' that was pretty slick. I'd like to see you do the same with a wizard's house, though. Muggles are as muggles are."

The man took a step towards Remus and held out his hand, "Bertie Butler. Bitten when I was forty-two. And you?"

Remus didn't lower his wand but merely gave the wizard named Bertie an odd look, "Excuse me?"

"Oh come off it!" Bertie laughed, "Look at your clothes. Look at how thin you are. There's a wolf camp some thirty miles from here. One can only assume and I'm assuming you're a wolf. Now try and tell me I'm wrong. Go on and try and tell me."

At that, Remus lowered his wand a bit, "You're…a werewolf?"

"Sure am."

A little lower, "For how long?"

"Bitten when I was forty-two. Didn't you hear me? Bitten some nine years ago or so," he laughed again, mirthless this time, "Had a wife you know. Kids. Then I got bit, you know? Wife left. And you? Lad, what's your story?"

The wand found its way back into its holster, "Remus Lupin. Bitten when I was six."

Bertie howled. Remus assumed it was meant to be a laugh but it sounded more like a howl than anything else, "Six? Blimey. Mighty hell. I should be taking lessons from you. Since you were six?"

Remus nodded.

"Mighty hell," Bertie went on, "You're looking pretty good. You must…you must have like your own pack by now I reckon."

"Not quite. I've just…just recently joined the packs."

Again Bertie laughed—a howl of a laugh. Nine years since being bitten must have seriously taken their toll on him, "Getting jobs and foo-foo stuff, I suppose, eh? Good thing you had the right mind to get a pack."

Remus didn't bother to correct him.

"They're not treating you very well if you've got to be stealing your way," Bertie went on, "And such fancy foot work you got. Them Muggles will never know what happened," he paused for a second, composing a serious face, "You in the market for a new pack? 'Cause I got a pack that could use such skills as you, my friend, do I say possess. God yes. I'd say you fit in right well."

And so the two walked on a bit and Bertie began to explain his pack. The good food. The close knit society. It was tough, as all werewolf packs were, but it kept you fed and as long as you had talent (as Remus did) you could do well. Remus was seriously considering joining—for reasons of the Order—when Bertie said the thing that completely sealed the deal.

"It can be all yours, my friend," he began, "if you know the magic words."

By now they were miles away from the village. Bertie had guided them to the top of a hill where they were looking down on the dark forest and had nothing but the quarter moon to shed light on them. A few stars were out but both men only had eyes for the terrible moon.

Taking his eyes off of it for a second, though, Remus looked to Bertie, "What magic words?"

The wolf leaned in closely and whispered three words, "You-Know-Who."

Even the sound of it made Remus tense a bit. He looked to Bertie, "You mean Volde-"

"Nah! Nah! Nah!" Bertie whispered harshly, cutting him off, "You don't say his name. You're not allowed to. You're not one of his…his followers I mean. _They_ get to say his name but you don't. You're not a follower. You're just a…a helper…and the food isn't too bad."

When Remus failed to give the joyous acceptance of such an invitation as Bertie had planned on, the old werewolf threw in, "But don't walk away thinking we're eating…mudbloods or anything. Maybe some of the real freaky ones but not us. No. Nothing like that.

"I mean there's such a stigma with the Dark Lord but listen, Remus, when it's guys us, it's not about who is right and who is wrong. It's about who is gonnna help us survive."

Bertie continued on even though Remus didn't need much more of an invitation. After months of being told the majority of werewolves had turned into Death Eaters he had been unable to find even one outside of civilization that knew Voldemort was returning. But Bertie here and his message now changed all that. It was almost a relief to hear for this had been exactly what Dumbledore had been talking about. Those who could be gathered (like the pack he had been following for months now) wanted little to do with him and would have killed him as soon as looked at him. But getting an insider's look into real followers of Voldemort was something Remus couldn't pass up—it could be useful. He could be a spy. Truthfully it was incredibly dangerous and he would have to work his way up but it was a start and something that the Order could definitely use.

Even after he had readily accepted Bertie's proposal, the old wolf went on talking. He even dug into his thick robes and began swilling drink from a bottle—Remus could only assume Bertie was getting drunk and in time he had his arm around Remus and was telling him his life's story. A wife. Children. A good job working as a cleanup man at Mungo's. And then one night on his way home from work, something attacked Bertie.

"They say they'll never leave you," he went on, drinking more from his seemingly never ending drink, "But what they don't tell you is that there's something stronger than love, my friend. There is something that is fucking stronger than love. And that is Lycanthropy. Where once I was Bertie, now I am a monster. And then they leave."

Remus had never heard it put like that and had indeed never thought like that before. He scanned Bertie's scowling face now and realized why he was where he was—alone and supposedly following Voldemort. He did it because he felt he had no other choice. Once bitten, there was nothing left for him and the lines between right and wrong were erased. Like Bertie said, it wasn't about who was right or who was wrong but who was going to help them survive. As true as many may have thought that was, Remus couldn't help disagreeing—while he was sure he was a monster, there was man left in him and that was why he was here, fighting for the Order and ready to take on something that would surely cost him his life. As Bertie began to lead him deep in the forest, Remus realized that someone might recognize him—someone who had been at the Battle of Department of Mysteries and write him off immediately as an ally to the Order. But he couldn't think of that now. He knew he couldn't turn back. There was work to be done and while Bertie had written himself off, Remus wouldn't do that to himself.

The deeper they got, the more Remus could hear—howling of sorts coming from the thick of the woods. Perhaps all of them had learned to laugh as Bertie did.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Damn , Damn, Damn_

There were new aurors coming in so Tonks was asked to remove what little she had stashed in her cubicle out. Far from finding such a gesture rude, Tonks took it as a great relief; she wasn't built for a cubicle as it often made her feel claustrophobic. As long as the Ministry wasn't completely getting rid of her and was simply going to keep her working in the field, she was fine.

But that day, she found something quite disturbing. Tonks had been on her way out when Kingsley had passed her. Instead of handing her a friendly greeting he merely whispered, "Go to the interrogation room. Now." And then he was gone.

Such orders were an odd thing for Kingsley to be giving so Tonks could only assume he was in a right foul mood or something was seriously wrong.

And something was seriously wrong.

The doors to the interrogation rooms were bewitched so that anyone could simply walk through them and enter the tiny room as they wished but could not exit. It was required that someone on the outside magically open the door to let you out again—this is why interrogations were never done by one person. The doors were also bewitched to be apparently transparent, allowing anyone to see through them and into the interrogation room. But from the inside of the room, you only saw a solid oak door.

Tonks made her way to the far room (the only one with anyone inside) and dropped the cardboard box that had held the few possessions she had upon seeing who was inside.

She didn't know the man but she had seen him before—almost a year ago. Recently bitten by a werewolf, this man had shared a ward with Arthur Weasley after his attack with some kind of snake while patrolling the Department of Mysteries. Tonks remembered vividly Remus attempting to make small talk with the man and his consistent distaste for the idea. Distaste wouldn't be strong enough. The man had gone so far as to threaten Remus—he didn't want anything to do with anyone at that point it had seemed.

He certainly had fallen since Tonks had last seen him. His clothes (if what little he had on could be called that) were tattered and worn thin. It amazed Tonks that he showed no signs of frost bite considering the tundra temperatures outside.

What was he doing here? What had he done? The question was answered far too easily as Tonks bit her lip and whispered, "That bastard."

"Excuse me."

She turned and found herself face to face with Bramberger, the new head of the Auror Office. He had a glare that matched Moody's but Tonks was far too angry to be intimidated. She pointed at the prisoner, "What is he doing here?"

Bramberger looked up at where Tonks had been pointing, as if he had never noticed the poor man sitting in the interrogation room before, "He is here for interrogating but that his hardly your concern, Miss Tonks. Aren't you supposed to be at Hogsmeade?"

"Interrogation for what?"

Again Bramberger said, "That is _hardly_ your concern, Miss Tonks."

"For murder I suppose?"

"Murder does happen but this is not-"

"Blasamore and Glasky, huh?"

Bramberger eyed Tonks suspiciously, "I haven't the foggiest idea how you know about that, Miss Tonks, but I repeat: this is not your concern. You are charged with keeping the peace at Hogsmeade and protecting the students of Hogwarts and-"

"You know as well as I that this man didn't do any kind of murdering-"

"Do you know this man, Miss Tonks?"

She hated how he kept saying her name like that—this hard emphasis on the _Miss_ like it had a buzzing sound to it. But the truth was Tonks didn't know this man—she couldn't even name him—and there was a possibility (considering the hard life that werewolves have) that he had at least beaten someone up in the year had been a wolf. But the murders he was on trial for were a load of crap.

When Tonks failed to give an answer soon enough, Bramberger went on, "Yes. Rufus told me you would be difficult."

"Did he?"

"Quite. This is not your battle, Miss Tonks. Remember that. Your place is at Hogsmeade where…ah, there we are."

Bramberger's eyes darted to the right as something caught them. Tonks followed them and found Proudfoot, another auror, approaching the pair.

"Very good, Proudfoot," Bramberger said before looking back at Tonks, "Proudfoot has been given a special assignment, Miss Tonks, and that is to keep an eye on you. To make sure that you are where you need to be: Hogsmeade. Rufus was quite aware of your talent as a metamorphagus and your…how should I put this? Your _habit_…of meddling in things that did not concern you-"

"This man is innocent!" Tonks was pointing at the interrogation room again.

"That is enough!" Bramberger barked, "You are excused, Miss Tonks. This is not your battle. Proudfoot will see you back to Hogsmeade and that is where you will remain."

"But this-"

"_You are excused, Miss Tonks!"_

::::

Days later, she still didn't know why she hadn't quit yet. Tonks had ideas. She was continually reminding herself of the Order and its need for her to be there, get information and such. Aurors (even ones on the lowest rung like Tonks) were likely to get information first and to the Order that was priceless. There was an extra sense of being the diamond in the rough Tonks thought. Perhaps the whole around her was corrupt (Proudfoot especially, seemingly always keeping his eyes fixed on her) but she could at least be the gem of justice among the filth.

But it wasn't easy.

As the weeks wore on and Christmas came and went, Tonks found herself looking forward more and more to Saturday. The number of students leaving the castle were slowly getting smaller and smaller but Tonks was still holding out hope that Hermione would come by some time. She was eager to hear about someone else's troubles and even dump her own off on someone else as well. But the weeks went on and Hermione never came back.

And there was the issue of that poor man hanging over Tonks' head. She searched _The Prophet_ everyday for news of some kind—never knowing if they'd actually post something like that but seeing as no one was going to answer her questions, it seemed the only thing to do. Bramberger had put her in a horrible place because there was no way for her to escape anywhere. She had apparated once to her parent's house—secretly hoping to get some information to them about the newest murder suspect but upon arriving outside the house found Proudfoot standing next to her, grasping her arm.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Tonks had yelled.

"Orders," Proudfoot huffed, "I've got to follow you wherever you go."

"I happen to be paying my parents a visit!"

"You're on duty."

"I can't take fifteen minutes to see my own dear mum and dad?" Tonks gave Proudfoot a hard glare, "How long will this go on?"

But he wouldn't answer.

::::

The Christmas season, however, was fast approaching and after days of hearing nothing from her daughter, Andromeda found her way to Hogsmeade herself and cornered Tonks one afternoon.

"Nearly a week, Nymphadora!" she yelled, "And not one word! I've been sending you mail everyday this week about if you were going to be joining us for Christmas dinner and not one word! Now what on God's green earth has been so busy that you _had_ to ignore me?"

Tonks shot a darted look at Proudfoot who stood just across the street, "Difficulties really," was all she said.

"What kind of difficulties?" Andromeda puffed, "I'm pleased to see you're alright, dear, but please just tell me once and for all if you will be joining us for Christmas or are you _too busy_ this year?"

Tonks tried hard not to think about the upcoming holiday—busying herself by hating Proudfoot had kept her mind off of many of the things Tonks didn't want to think about. Like how she was continually comparing this Christmas with last year's Christmas. Ted and Andromeda held their usual Christmas dinner but that year, they had really kicked it up a notch and invited basically everyone they knew. They even pressed Tonks to bring anyone and everyone she had ever even said two words to.

"Christmas is about being together!" Ted had chuckled, "It's about family! And nobody does family and parties quite like the Tonks'!"

And a year ago, Tonks and Remus had been simply two friends—awkward around each other at times but on good terms. Perhaps Remus had even begun to love Tonks by then—perhaps Tonks had begun to love Remus by then, she didn't know anymore. She tried hard not to think about the good times they had at the Christmas party last year—the joy that rushed through Tonks went Remus _actually_ showed up at her parents' house. They had sat next to one another for despite Ted's valiant attempts, the only members of the Order to show (aside from his daughter) were Kingsley and Remus—leaving the two stranded in a field of wizards, witches and Muggles they had never met before. Kingsley was better at socializing but Remus stayed in corners and merely smiled nicely as a little Muggle cousin tried to ask him where he got all those scars on his face. Tonks had dived in then, shooed the boy off and suggested that she and Remus go for a walk. He accepted immediately.

But a lot had happened since that innocent walk and now and for all Tonks knew, Remus could be dead. Above everything else, she tried most not to think about that.

Again Tonks looked at Proudfoot, hoping to explain everything to Andromeda without having the say the words. It seemed her mother somewhat caught on because she asked right away, "What's wrong? What is it?" Andromeda met eyes with Proudfoot and then she looked to her daughter, "You're being followed."

"Yes."

"You're being watched?"

"All the time."

And then Andromeda made a gasping noise, like a cough, "They're not letting you leave."

"Right."

Andromeda's hard glare fell again on Proudfoot who by now was looking away, "They can't do that. Is he not telling you send mail?"

"Mum, I haven't got a single one of your letters," Tonks said, "They must be intercepting it."

"But why?"

Tonks bit her lip, "They don't trust me."

As if Andromeda was used to a record of bad behavior following Tonks, she merely rolled her eyes and asked, "Now what did you do?"

But now Proudfoot was standing, making his way across the street and towards the pair, "Can't talk now," Tonks looked away, trying to appear uninterested, "But just know I won't be at the Christmas party." By now Proudfoot was in earshot so she added, "Awfully busy. Can't get a moment away. Awfully busy."

He gave a hard glare to Tonks but it was nothing compared to Andromeda's. She said nothing but merely gave her daughter's hand a squeeze, stared a few more death rays into Proudfoot's eyes and then left.

"And who was that?" he asked.

"The fucking queen of England!" Tonks spat, "Mind your own business!"

She hated the Hog's Head above all other things these days but it was one of the few places that Proudfoot rarely tread—even if he was following Tonks. He'd stand outside and stare in the windows but he never went in. Perhaps he wasn't allowed in. Perhaps the usual crowd scared him. Since Tonks' break down with Hermione, the crowd had been less than welcoming to her but she would take their cussing and evil looks over Proudfoot breathing down her neck any day.

Today was no different—the looks, the harsh whispering and the roll of the eyes. Even the barman seemed reluctant to accept Tonks' good money when she ordered a drink. But he did end up taking it.

The tinkling bell above the door was heard and Tonks immediately felt the eyes on the back of her head. She gripped her bottle tightly, wondering what great miracle had allowed Proudfoot to enter the Hog's Head today. She didn't turn to greet him but rather sat at the bar and preferred to ignore the man. Footsteps drew closer to Tonks but she didn't turn at least not until someone speak behind her.

"Since when have you been a drinker?"

Because that voice didn't belong to Proudfoot. It was Remus.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_If Nothing Else_

::::

"You."

"Me."

Immediately Tonks' arms were around him and immediately he was prying her off.

"Oh come off it!" she yelled, "This is an 'I'm glad you're not dead' hug! You can grant me that, can't you?"

And he did for a while. He definitely felt smaller in her arms but it was him—it felt like him, smelt like him. His hair was thicker and a beard had come in now but the smell of it could only be Remus. The curvature of his body. The sound of his breathing. It was Remus.

But all too soon he was pulling away again, pushing away even and saying, "Please. Don't." There was a moment of silence before Remus added, "Besides, you should check me. And I should check you. Now, tell me, what is your favorite kind of tea?"

Tonks tried to smile as she held herself at arm's length from Remus, "You know I hate tea."

"Correct," he nodded, "Now you ask me my security question."

"For a period in time you lived outside Great Britain. What country did you call home for that time?"

"Peru."

And then they laughed. For whatever reason they laughed. For lack of better things to do. To alleviate the awkwardness. Recalling the horrible and hilarious stories Remus had about life in Peru for that month some years ago. They laughed but it was only real for a while before it grew empty.

The tinkle of the bell above the door sounded again and Tonks was shocked to see that whatever kept Proudfoot away from the Hog's Head wasn't enough today—he was here now and steadily walking towards the bar. Tonks took hold of Remus' bony wrist (and merely gripped it tighter when he tried to pull away) before whispering, "It's not safe here." She then led him towards a flight of stairs in the back of the pub.

It wasn't ideal considering their history but Tonks' room would have to do. It was for sure the one place that Proudfoot didn't have access to. Once inside, she quickly locked the door and drew the curtains. Remus raised an eyebrow, "You're being watched?"

"I'm being followed," she corrected him.

All laughter had left Remus when he asked, "Because of the files?"

Tonks nodded.

"You shouldn't have taken them."

"Well, now it doesn't matter," she looked at him, arms still aching to hold him, "What are you doing here?"

Too quickly Remus made it clear he couldn't stay long, "I'm just here to see Dumbledore," he added, taking a look around the room, "You sure we're safe in here?"

"Perfectly," Tonks said, "Can't even apparate in or out of it. Proudfoot made sure of that. Now what are you doing here?"

Remus wasn't sure why he told her then. He knew full well it would only upset her—knowing he was not only trailing a group of werewolves but Voldemort supporters to boot. The farther he got into his story, the graver Tonks' expression became. Perhaps he himself was just excited about the notion—the idea of actually having his condition be worthwhile and useful. Maybe he felt he could do some good for once.

"They know very little," he continued, "They're kept very ignorant but most of them don't seem to mind. One Death Eater is always bringing us food so as long as they stay fed, they stay happy."

"You've _seen_ the Death Eaters?" Tonks asked.

"Obviously I try not to be seen but yes I have seen them. I stay out the way. The wolves are just for power and-"

Remus' words were cut off by the heavy knocking at Tonks' door. All the color seemed to have drained from her face as she lifted a finger to her lips to silence Remus further. She merely mouthed, "Don't say anything," before turning to the door, "Hello!" Tonks called, "Who is it?"

Of course she knew who it was—the color only continued to drain from Tonks' face when Proudfoot called back, "It's me. What are you doing in there? You're on duty."

Tonks began to panic. She jumped her words, trying her best to come up with something that would keep Remus here while also hiding him from the ever present eyes of Proudfoot. She looked utterly shaken and even tried to disparate with Remus though she knew it was useless. Remus, though, seemed cool as he yanked his arm away from Tonks and merely walked to the door despite his counterpart's pleas. He brandished his wand and flung open the door. Proudfoot never knew what hit him. He laid in a crumpled mess in the door way and Tonks was still stammering as she moved icloser to look at Remus' handiwork.

He gave a wry look to her and said, "Hogsmeade has left you uncreative."

Tonks stared, wide eyed. Was this a joke? Was Remus joking? That crooked smile was there—a little wicked but definitely kind, even loving maybe. She laughed a bit to herself and said, "The wolves have left you barbaric."

And then they laughed again.

"Is he dead?" Tonks nudged Proudfoot with the tip of her wand.

"The wolves haven't gotten that far into me, haven't they?"

Again, they laughed.

Having the whole of Hogsmeade open to Tonks again was refreshing but not nearly as refreshing as hearing Remus talk to her like he used to—like (if not lovers) they were at least friends still. He was looking at her, smiling now and definitely not ignoring her as the past encounters had been. She knew he wouldn't stay long so she decided to escort him up the trail towards Hogwarts. The snow was thick and the path hadn't been shoveled for days. They had no choice to trudge through the knee deep snow—occasionally using a heating spell to melt some snow away. The feelings were the same for Remus; Tonks looked a little frazzled and he was wondering why she was choosing to pick such a drab hair color but Remus finally felt like he was home. And for a while he was allowing those feelings to surface.

"I don't even know if Dumbledore is in," Tonks admitted, "Apparently he's been in and out all term."

"I guess we'll see," Remus was looking at her again—granted it was his usual throw away look, one that he had perfected during Order meetings. Just a quick look. You would never be able to tell if he was really looking at you or just stretching his neck. Tonks knew this trick too well, though, to be fooled. Of course she couldn't possibly know what Remus was thinking. His eyes lingered on her only for as long as his conscience would let him before he remembered to keep his eyes on the road ahead.

A long while went by with just the sounds of melting snow and footsteps to be heard. Finally Remus spoke, "So. You don't hate me. Things are already better than I had thought they'd be."

"How am I supposed to hate you, when I'm too busy pitying you?" Tonks laughed.

"You can do without the pity. Don't pity me."

To which Tonks rolled her eyes, "I wouldn't be so quick to say that. Pity is the one thing standing in my way of _hating_ you. Of wanting to physically hurt you."

He was teasing now—crossing a line he shouldn't be, considering the emotional state Tonks was in, "Only pity?" he asked.

Of course it wasn't only pity. Of course there were stronger and more devout feelings. Remus wasn't asking really about pity—he was asking about love. So of course Tonks had to answer, "No. I lied. Not just pity."

The conversation stopped being light then—for a while they pretended like maybe the months of solitude between them could be erased but that was before they spoke of love. It was still something neither of them could shake. A long silence fell between them again.

Now Tonks was taking a good look at Remus and began again, "You look-"

"Horrible. I know," Remus cut in, "But I'm better fed than I was a few weeks ago."

Not sure of what to say next, Tonks simply threw in, "Christmas is coming up."

"Is it?"

"Yes. It is. Next week I believe. Are you staying for the holidays?"

He didn't meet her eyes, "I don't think I'll be able to."

"But it's _Christmas_, Remus. Mum and Dad are having their party again. And Molly. Molly would like to have you over I'm sure."

"I'm sure."

"So just stay."

"I can't."

"You look like you could use a good meal in you," Tonks said, trying her best to keep up with Remus' large strides. But he wasn't letting her follow him so closely. As soon as any halfway friendly feelings had come, they were gone. Remus wasn't casting his sideways looks at her anymore and now he was even trying to stay as far out of step with her as possible. He had begun to think that the pair of them walking shoulder to shoulder would induce thoughts of hand holding. Remus thought of love and then thought sensibly. He took great care to make sure he was just out of Tonks' reach and it was driving her crazy.

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"This morning. Had a good breakfast."

Silence again. Tonks knew he wouldn't say much more and she wasn't sure what more she could say. The lines were so thin between what was acceptable and what wasn't. It wasn't just things having to do with the Order and secrecy of them but it was hoards of feelings she had chosen to stash away instead of face. Facing them meant driving herself insane with worry and fears. Facing them meant guilt. She had found it was much easier to hate Remus than to face all the things inside but luckily for him Proudfoot had come along to take up most of the hate Tonks had in her. They were almost to the gates when she stopped and prayed he would stop too, to look at her, to let her catch up but Remus did no such thing. So Tonks called out his name and it was only then he acknowledged her.

"Yes?" Remus called.

Tonks then looked down the side of the hill they had just climbed. Two sets of tracks led right to them now, their beginning laid down in Hogsmeade. She looked back to Remus, "I should probably…get back…I mean…Proudfoot….make sure he is okay."

Remus nodded, "Alright. Well, it was nice to have seen you."

And without another word, he was turning away. And once again Tonks was calling out to him. He turned but his eyes were gazing upward, just above Tonks' head. She wasn't angry really—just a hard kind of desperate. Thoughts had been looming in her head for months and finally she felt she could speak them, "It was Sirius, wasn't it?" she said, "I mean…none of this happened until after Sirius' death."

Remus stared, confused. What was she insinuating? "There was nothing…like _that_…between Sirius and I-"

Angry with herself Tonks cut him short, "Yes. I know. I didn't…I didn't mean _that_. I mean…" and then she stopped, mouth gaped a bit, "I…I don't know what I mean."

Silence.

Followed by Tonks saying, "I didn't…I didn't mean…"

"I know," Remus replied and there was a definite laugh in his voice because it would be just like Tonks to say something so odd, something so awkward even though it was completely unintentional. They were both odd—strangely odd. Neither were up to date on fashion or gossip. Clever and talented but neither of them suave. The laughing stung Remus because he was reminded again why it had been Tonks all along and no one else. My hands groped around in his pockets until they fell on the box. Immediately he wished he hadn't touched it. It was getting harder to fight off that old familiar feeling.

"I should have been there for Sirius," Remus said, "But I wasn't. Just like I won't be there for you."

"I don't believe that."

But again he was leaving, heading off to Hogwarts. Tonks called again but Remus refused to look back—considered the box, considered just throwing it at her. What use of was it to him? He wanted away and out. Those noble feelings about the wolves were fleeting as Tonks trudged her way through the snow, running after Remus. It was only after she had pulled him to face her did he acknowledge her.

"Stop!" she yelled, "Stop. Just…stop…answer me something. No…wait. Don't…don't say anything…just stand there and nod…or…just stand there! Don't say anything," Tonks sighed, "…cos…you're….you're just going to say what I want to hear…just listen and…" she looked hard at Remus, her eyes clearly damp with feelings she was holding back when she said, "If you…if you made a mistake…okay. Fine. Just…come home. Come home and…no questions asked. No. Don't say anything because you're just going to say what you think I want to hear. So don't…just walk away and…if you made a mistake before…then just come home…no…no questions asked…"

Again the silence laid thick all around them. A thousand things crept into Remus' mind. Cream colored hair. Something written by Shelley—a poem he couldn't remember just then. Bertie laughing like a wild dog. That damned box. And brown eyes. Before they had been green but today they were brown. A dark brown that almost matched the color of Tonks' hair.

Immediately Remus was taken back, "Can you…you can't morph, can you?"

Stoically Tonks answered, "I haven't been able to for a while."

And in the back of Remus' mind Bertie was laughing again. He felt a sudden urge to ask Tonks if his laugh had changed—had it too turned against the man and become full wolf?

Tonks thought he was going to kiss her but Remus wouldn't dare. He was simply bending to put his face against hers. To feel her again? No but—as Tonks realized—to whisper in her ear, "I love you," followed closely by, "That's why I'm doing this."

He didn't look in her eyes. He didn't say anything else. Remus merely turned away and walked up to the Hogwarts' gates. He wasn't just walking but disaperating—with a pop he was gone and Tonks could only guess where exactly he went.

::::

It had to do somewhat with age. The poor thing was getting up there but it also had a great deal to do with stupidity. It was late and she wasn't clever enough to think that any kind of booby traps would be set. It made the catch that much easier. In a matter of seconds she was dangling twelve feet up in the air by her big toe and all the while, yelping in pain. Moody merely gave a good spell right to the forehead and she went limp. And silent.

He took little care to make sure she was comfortable as he stuffed the woman's unconscious body into his oversized duffle bag. He took even less care to hide the fact he was dragging such a thing when he arrived at the Ministry. All the way to the lifts and then to the Auror offices, Moody dragged that sack behind him despite odd looks from people passing and even a few security guards who advanced on him. It's a small miracle he got all the way to the cubicles but he had managed it. Moody spotted an unsuspecting apprentice and tossed the drawstrings his way saying, "Here. Take that. Follow me." Unfortunately for the apprentice, Moody was easily twice his size so what had been a small burden for the old Auror to carry was an impossibility for the apprentice.

Moody again paid little attention to the raspy grunts and moans coming from the young man when he walked straight into Bramberger's office. The head Auror gave a cry of shock, "What…what's all this?"

Far from doing anything of importance, Bramberger had in fact been busying himself with a tricky brain teaser from that morning's _Daily Prophet_—something that Moody made a face at, "Keeping busy, eh, Lester?"

The apprentice had gotten as far as the outside of Bramberger's door with Moody's sack when Moody turned and levitated his load and then plopped it on Bramberger's desk. He quickly shut the door and locked it just before the head Auror burst into a fit.

"There's been another murder," Moody said, silencing Bramberger.

"What?"

"There's been another murder. Dunstable Cowlend. You should be getting the report any minute now."

Bramberger looked confused, "What has that got to do with me? Was it a dark wizard?"

"Quite. Silver bullet. Muggle gun. Shot to the head."

"I'm sorry?"

"You'll be getting your victim soon, Lester," Moody sneered, "But I've taken the liberty to bring you your criminal."

With that he undid the drawstring and gave the bag a good shake—Genevieve, still comatose, tumbled out.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

_Hell Hath No Fury_

Unfortunately he had brought Fleur. Molly was beginning to wonder why she suspected anything else—there was just this tiny hope in her that something would run amok between that girl and her son. Then the whole thing would be over. But no. There she was—turning her nose up at Molly's hand knitted curtains and deeming any food Molly was cooking to be _too fattening_.

Molly was sure veela didn't need to worry about fattening foods—that no matter what they ate, their figure remained slim and fine. Fleur was just looking for anything to complain about.

Sensing his wife's frustration, Arthur ushered Fleur out of the kitchen and offered to give her a tour of the gardens outside. She seemed even less interested in that and huffed away where she found a cozy spot on Bill's lap. When Arthur returned Molly was busy frying potatoes with more gusto than was necessary. She flipped the pan so suddenly that about five spilt onto the floor.

"Oh damn it all!" Molly yelped.

Her face had gone all red and while it was unnecessary for her to explain why she was in such a state, she still turned to Arthur and said, "Fleur. I don't know how much more I can stand of her, Arthur! I might just…No I will…I know I will…I will…" her hand groped the handle of a nearby sauce pan absentmindedly.

"Now, Molly…" Arthur pulled the pan out of reach before wrapping an arm around his wife, "I know. I know, dear, but she's with Bill now so she'll stay out of your hair-"

"I don't want her anywhere near Bill, Arthur! I don't…I don't like her…I don't want her…marrying him…"

"Molly, dear-"

But trying to intervene at this point was futile as any attempt to stifle Molly only made her that more angry. In time it had enveloped nearly everyone in the house—Arthur, Ginny, Errol and even Harry were causes for Molly's grief. After a long monologue on how Charlie refused to be careful around those damned dragons, Molly threw a fistful of silverware onto the table and appeared to be done.

Arthur thought he'd test the waters.

"I suppose this is a bad time to mention," He stopped when Molly threw a distressed look at him and only continued when she barked, "What? What happened?"

"I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that I invited someone else to dinner tonight, Molly dear."

Molly's eyes got narrow, "Are they a veela?"

Laughing Arthur answered, "No. Not at all. They're a werewolf."

The frying stopped for a second as Molly looked up at her husband, eyes soft now, "You mean…Re…Remus?"

Arthur nodded but before he could take comfort in this calm moment Molly was back to her usual tactics—now tossing the turkey into the oven with such force that some of its juices splashed out of the pan.

"Molly?"

"What's _he_ doing here?"

Taken back a bit, Arthur asked, "You…you don't like Remus?"

"Well of course I do! But he shouldn't be _here_! He should be…be in Hogsmeade…with Tonks and all!"

Now Arthur was rolling his eyes—the family was one thing but that was in Molly's control. It was her children's livelihood she was looking after. Tonks was not under her care and thus not for Molly to worry about.

"He's just being ridiculous!" she yelled, "If I had him here, I might just-"

"Well you _are_ going to have him here and he's going to be treated like a guest, Molly," Arthur picked up the loose silverware and straightened them out a bit as Molly's flailing had bent a few of the older spoons, "He's been with the werewolves and he deserves a good Christmas."

This went on for a while and was only stopped when there came a knocking at the door. Immediately Molly and Arthur could hear one of the twins at the door, asking some security question before letting someone in. Out in the hallway Molly caught sight of Harry (who was spending the holiday with them) rushing down the stairs and giving a stark looking Remus the biggest of hugs.

Before exiting Arthur's hand was on Molly's shoulder, "Molly, remember to be nice." Molly gave the skinny frame of Remus a good look and decided he could at least survive dinner.

::::

Food was passed around the table and in time at all the air was quite quiet as guests and Weasley's alike began to eat. Molly had made sure that Harry got a hefty helping ("You look so thin!") but pushed the largest and heaviest plate at Remus.

"You really look as though you could use a good meal."

And he did in fact. While he was better fed now among a pack, no one in his company was a tenth of the cook that Molly was. Condensed soup (heated up at least) was a common dish for the Death Eaters to bring. When things were looking up, they sometimes loaded the wolves up with a whole cow. Each man would take a hunk and roast it himself. But all of that was mud compared to the food Remus was tasting now. It truly was the first real meal he had had in six months. His first instinct was to put as much food as he could in his mouth but he also knew that such rich and fattening foods might find their way back out if he didn't pace himself. Remus was diligent—hungry but diligent—and took to conversation with Arthur in order to slow his eating down.

"Bad news. Every day it seems there's more," Arthur whispered across the table, "Just yesterday Jimmony Jaunts didn't turn up for work. And he's got a strict schedule. I don't like the sound of it at all."

"What do you do with something like that?" Bill asked, joining in.

"Not much you can do."

Molly was coming around the table now to give extra helpings of mashed potatoes (mainly to Harry and Remus) and had caught wind of what they were talking about, "Really, Arthur," she sighed, "It's Christmas. Must we talk about such things now?"

Arthur nodded, "You're right. This is a happy time."

After dinner drinks were poured for the adults and everyone found their way into the living room where they busied themselves with chatter and some music—provided by Celestina Warbeck. This of course got Fleur in a tizzy.

"Must we listen to zis?" she scowled.

Molly tried her best to ignore such remarks and simply went on listening to her radio while Arthur lovingly sat next to her and patted her arm. Both hoped Fleur would get the message but she was either too thick to catch it or too rude to take heed.

Across the way on an antique ottoman Molly could see Remus sitting by the fireplace. Hunger had surely come upon him and a few new scars had been added but tonight his mood spelled something different. Had she not been infuriated with Fleur, Molly might have said something to him but the hours ticked by and that damned veela refused to shut up.

Around the time that Molly was sending the children up to bed Remus announced he'd also be calling it a night. As he disappeared up the stairs, Molly couldn't help but put on a few dramatics. She turned to Arthur, kissed his cheek and then said (rather loudly), "I do love you, Arthur dear."

Smiling Arthur cooed, "And…and I love you, Molly."

She stopped to listen to the creaking of the stairs but never quite figured out if Remus had heard her or not.

::::

Christmas Day went off without a hitch. Nearly that is. There were presents strewn all over the children's' rooms (mostly Molly's homemade fudge and a new jumper—as always) and even a few for the adults. Molly's good sleep had put her in a better mood so it was much easier to control her cursing at Fleur when she took one look at the knitted skirt Molly had made for her and shrieked with disgust. Bill and Charlie (as always) accepted theirs with smiles but grudgingly put them on.

After sliding about ten pancakes onto Remus' plate Molly sighed and said, "So sorry, Remus. Had I known you were coming, I would have knit you something as well. I just didn't have time."

Fred caught Remus' eye and managed to mouth something that looked like, "Lucky you." He was busy itching at his mustard colored jumper.

"I'll just have to make up some food for you to take with," Molly said, now shoveling sausage links onto Remus' plate.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"You _need_ some food in you, Remus. I won't take no for an answer."

The idea of food was too much and Remus couldn't help but accept. The rest of the morning might have continued on peaceful and the like—as Arthur had wanted it—except that the fact that gravy spilt. Ron had been busy being foolish as usual and in his haste to show off to Fleur tipped the boat over. Not only did gravy go all over the table but the ceramic boat hit the floor and smashed into a hundred pieces.

Fortunately Fleur was being useful for once in more than one way. She flicked her wand and fixed the gravy boat almost instantly as she rolled her eyes at Ron and said, "You are az bad az zat Tonks!"

There was a definite lurch in the air that could only be felt by Arthur (as he stared cautiously at Molly), Molly (as she smiled wickedly at Remus) and Remus as he focused on the melting butter atop his pancakes. Molly cleared her throat and merely said, "I invited _dear_ Tonks to spend Christmas with us but she said she couldn't."

"Working in Hogsmeade," Arthur chimed in, a definite edge to his voice as he eyed his wife.

"Have you talked to Tonks lately, Remus?" the words had barely left Molly's lips and Arthur had his hand on her shoulder, as if to stop her from going further.

But Remus wasn't giving anything, "I haven't talked to many people recently. Been living underground with the wolves if you might remember. Not much time for recreation." He gave a laugh but anyone listening knew it was hallow.

Molly wondered if she should go on with Arthur's hand pressing hard into her shoulder and Remus over there, laughing hoarsely. Thankfully though Harry spoke up them.

"Tonks! Her Patronus changed! I saw it."

Remus was still focused on his breakfast but Molly noted a flinch in his body at the mention of a Patronus. This had to be news to him.

"Snape said it had changed anyway," Harry finished before looking back to Remus, "Can…can Patronuses change?"

If he was shocked at this news, he didn't show it but merely went on explaining the charm as if he were still a professor and this was merely a question asked by an eager student. Molly couldn't believe it. She rose and darted to the kitchen sink just to get away from it all. Fleur poking at the hash browns while Bill and Ron drooled over her. And Remus sitting there, laughing as if nothing in the world were wrong. Her anger might have peaked and might have had a fit right there had a flash of red outside the window not caught her eye. A tuff of flaming red hair was walking towards the house and it was hair Molly would know anywhere.

"Arthur!" she screamed, dropping whatever she had been holding, "It's Percy! He…he's home! He's here!"

All were jumping now to look out the window and clear as day there was Percy, making his way towards the house. And following not too far behind him was none other than the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. A mix of curiosity and anxiety washed over Remus at the sight of the Minister. He edged his way to the back of the room and stayed put there as Molly welcomed both new comers eagerly into her kitchen.

"Percy!" she called, taking her son's face in her hands, "You're looking so good and…and the Minister looks well of course. Welcome to our home! Can I get you something to eat? Something to drink? I can put a few more sausages on the stove if you like!"

It was a role few had seem Scrimgeour play—kind. He had an air of cheeriness as he declined Molly's offer of food but noted how lovely she looked, "We were in the neighborhood and Percy said he'd like to stop by home. Can't refuse such an offer!"

That was when his eyes fell briskly on Harry, "I think I'll just let you all talk for a bit. Ah, you, young man," he now was definitely looking at Harry, "Why don't you show around your charming gardens out here? I thought they were just delightful."

Both Arthur and Remus rose to speak for Harry or at least offer to accompany him but Harry shooed them off and in his normal manner took charge of the situation and accepted Scrimgeour's offer. The two walked out of the kitchen and into the garden but not before Scrimgeour caught sight of Remus and gave the faintest of depraved smirks. Remus wasn't about to let that throw him, though—he walked to the window and watched Scrimgeour and Harry while Molly continued to fuss over Percy.

He had very little to say—Percy—and soon everyone (except Molly it seemed) had it figured out this visit to Burrow was about Scrimgeour and Harry rather than Percy and his family.

There was very little celebration after Percy and Scrimgeour left seeing as the leader of the party, Molly, had lost her gusto it seemed. The family and guests busied themselves that day with chatter and then serving themselves some of the leftovers from the night before. Molly spent much of the day out on the front porch, just staring out at the west. The sun was beginning to set and Ginny was standing beside her mother, tugging at her arm, "Come on, Mom," she said, "Just come inside. I'll make some tea." But Molly had no appetite for tea. She occasionally said, "My boy…my poor boy," and more than not she was crying.

When there was just a sliver of light left from the sun, a body brushed past Molly, touched her elbow once and said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Molly." She blinked and realized it was Remus, still looking morose but well fed now.

When she didn't reply Remus continued, "Don't worry about Percy. He'll come round. I'm sure of it. Arthur packed me up some food so don't worry about me. Happy Christmas, Molly."

But Molly couldn't let him walk out like that—not when it seemed to her that her family was breaking apart one by one. She hadn't spoken much since that morning so her voice sounded hoarse but nonetheless Molly managed to call out, "It's a werewolf, Remus. Her Patronus is a werewolf."

But Remus never stopped to answer her.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

_Turquoise _

She thought it was colored. It definitely looked colored in this light. Tonks pulled the tuff down in front of her but now it merely looked brown—dull and dingy brown. But she could have sworn her hair had been green. Maybe not green. Something close to it.

Tonks turned away from the mirror and examined the clothes she had had laid out the night before. This wasn't a usual thing for Tonks but these days sleeping was difficult and anything to occupy her mind and tire her out a bit more was welcomed. Last night in her emotional haze she had laid out a pair of jeans, tattered at the hem and a little too big for her, and a T-shirt.

She stared out the window and noted the melting snow. It laid in puddles everywhere—thick and deep muddy puddles that the people of Hogsmeade hated. Some tried to throw sand into the pits in order to solidify them a bit. None of it helped so there was nothing to be done but trudge through the mud like they had trudged through the snow all that winter. This was definitely T-shirt weather.

Slipping on the shirt, Tonks got a better look at it in the sun. This must have been where the idea of her hair changing color had come from for the shirt was for sure the color she had sworn her hair had been. Not green. Not blue. But turquoise. Worn out but decent enough for patrolling the streets. For whatever reason in the sunlight the color seemed quite lovely—prettier than it had seemed last night. It had been a free giveaway gift brought home by Ted. He worked with Muggle relations and often went out to meet with people from various lines of Muggle Work-plumbers, fast food service, lawyers and everything in between. This shirt showed off the emblem of some music store. A caricature of a snare drum was spouting off music notes that formed the words _Bar None Music Emporium_. It was a nice T-shirt. As nice as a T-shirt could be really. And it fit Tonks which was what a T-shirt was supposed to do. She wasn't sure why she was paying so much attention to it.

Quickly Tonks slid her boots on and stuffed the ragged pant hems into the boots as to hide them from further damage from the mud outside. As she moved towards the door, Tonks caught sight of herself in the mirror again. The color stood out again and it hit her. She'd worn this before—possibly since the incident but it wasn't until now that it had hit her.

She had called herself his lover and he had smiled wickedly at that. But hadn't she been? He had come into her bedroom that night and touched her like a lover would. And Tonks had been wearing that shirt.

Without much more thought to the matter, she ripped the thing off and tossed it under the bed before the tears could make their way to her eyes. She dug through her drawers for something else—anything else—to wear and soon settled on an orange tank top with a sweater overtop. She ran out before she could give the turquoise shirt a second thought.

::::

Making rounds on the town was possibly the most boring thing on the planet. Little to nothing ever happened in Hogsmeade. It got to the point where only the occasional trip up to Hogwarts to safeguard the students while Dumbledore was away kept Tonks going. It was nice at least to get inside the castle. On occasion she'd run into old professors she had liked while at school. Sprout was always telling Tonks to come for tea and even good old McGonagall seemed to have developed a soft spot for the old trouble maker. When Proudfoot wasn't looking, Tonks managed to have visits with them.

But those rarely happened.

Tonks took to finding students (who rarely came by any more) and giving them a good yelling at. It panged her and in the end she felt guilty for getting angry at kids who were just doing what she used to do but for a time the yelling was something to do. And having something to do kept her mind off worrying.

Today though things were stirring. Around lunch time, Tonks saw a sight she hadn't seen in some time—Moody. He came tottering down the street followed in tow by Kingsley who gave a pleasant smile at Tonks. Moody was less pleasurable as he grabbed at Tonks' arm and said, "You're coming with me."

"What?" she asked, watching the pair of them walk past her.

Moody didn't stop to repeat himself and Tonks didn't need a second invitation. She darted after Kingsley and Moody. Unfortunately Proudfoot wasn't far behind.

"Hey!" he called, "Where are you going?"

It was only then that Moody stopped to turn. Proudfoot had Tonks by the nook of the arm and though she was trying to throw him off, he wouldn't dare let go. Moody approached them both and gave Proudfoot a good heave, "Back off," he barked.

"I have orders-"

"Back off!" Moody yelled again.

But Proudfoot wasn't giving in—not until Moody lifted him off the ground by the collar and threatened to crush his left testicle that Proudfoot did in fact turn and walk way. He still stared after his prey but wouldn't (or couldn't) follow.

Once again Tonks was climbing that hill towards Hogwarts castle as Moody explained the three of them needed to see Dumbledore quickly.

"Is he leaving again?" Tonks asked.

"No idea," Moody puffed. Tonks still couldn't help beaming over watching her favorite mentor threaten to beat Proudfoot up. It was probably the best thing that had happened in weeks.

The Hogwarts castle had a different feel to it. Tonks had felt it all year long growing staggeringly more unwelcoming. The students didn't seem to talk as much anymore and hardly anyone looked another in the eyes anymore. All that was left of the once vibrant school was something empty. One could really appreciate how large the castle was when there was no sound to fill it. Aurors were not so uncommon nowadays as few stared at Tonks and her cohorts, marching down the corridors. War was definitely here.

Dumbledore too lacked his usual spirit. He sat behind his desk with one hand holding up a weary head, barely able to keep his eyes open as the doors to his office opened. He gave his utmost attention to this three guests, though, magically summoning chairs for them to sit and offering a bowl of lemon drops. Only Kingsley and Tonks sat and only Tonks accepted sweets.

At first Tonks had no idea why the two of them had invited her and she was only left to assume it was just to get her out of Hogsmeade. Kingsley and Moody talked with Dumbledore for a good hour about Death Eater movements and known disappearances of Ministry officials. The news was daunting, depressing even. Added to that was Tonks' awkward feeling of just being another piece of the furniture for she had nothing to add but the occasional, "Oh really?" Still she tried her best to be grateful—an hour away from Proudfoot was an hour in paradise.

Dumbledore seemed to sense Tonks' frustration and attempts at remaining unfrustrated (which only made her more frustrated) for he kept pushing the lemon drops bowl towards her. Finding nothing else to do, Tonks ate her fill. By the time Kingsley was rising, she felt stuffed and was embarrassed to note that Dumbledore's bowl was nearly empty.

"Not to worry," the old professor chuckled as he rested back into his chair, appearing to be heading for a nap, "If you eat them then I won't and I daresay I eat too many treats as it is," he now looked to Moody, "Please do keep my informed, Alastor. If anything should come up, please do."

Moody then surprised Tonks for the second time that day, "There's more, Dumbledore. One last thing. I need to talk to you about Lupin."

Tonks literally did a double take but Moody ignored it.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, still drowsy, "How is he? I haven't heard from him for some time now. Still with the wolves?"

"Exactly," Moody continued, "For some time now and for a variety of reasons. A spy for the Order and because of a few mishaps from the past."

At that Dumbledore sat forward, "Mishaps?"

"Murders. I'm sure you heard of them. Guthrie Blasamore. That was a big name. Lupin was a suspect in those murders."

"A most unfortunate mistake. Anyone who knew Remus would be certain he was innocent."

Tonks gave a look to Moody who didn't seem to be affected by this jab. He merely continued, "Yes, well…the culprit has been brought in. And Remus' name is cleared."

Immediately Tonks spoke up, "Who did it?"

"Genevieve Hawthorne," Moody answered, "I've been tracking her for a while."

"One of our own!" now Dumbledore was saying.

"It somewhat makes sense," Kingsley inserted, "In Genevieve's mind it did. All three of the men she killed were suspected Death Eaters. She had been saying for some time now that we weren't moving forward fast enough. I suppose she wanted to take things into her own hands. Some time a year ago we were at the Weasley's for lunch and Genevieve kept talking about…Muggle torture devices. And means in which to kill without magic."

"A Muggle gun," Moody said, "One bullet to the head. No magic involved. Hawthorne wanted to make her victims feel small against something that wasn't magic. It was hardly noble and I wouldn't doubt it if someone informed she's a psychopath. But she's at Azkaban now."

Still sitting, too shocked to move, Tonks stammered out, "But…but…Blasamore…he hunted werewolves and…Glasky voted in favor of the tagging law…did…did Genevieve have something against them because of that?"

Moody gave a hard glare her way then, "Tonks, you're gonna find that anti-werewolf supporters are a dime a dozen."

"Also pure blood status and such anti-werewolf thoughts seem to go hand in hand," Kingsley sighed.

"Another unfortunate mistake on their part," Dumbledore nodded.

Moody seemed ready to say something in response to that but chose instead to keep silent. Kingsley then spoke up for him, "So, yes, Remus' name has been cleared and Alastor and I agree that his talents could be used for the Order here. Attempting to get in contact with him is always tricky for we don't know his exact location unless he tells us and…well, being a spy and all, he's not too keen on getting in contact with us every other day.

"But Alastor and I have managed it and explained the situation to Remus. We asked him to return but he showed a certain…reluctance to leave the pack."

Feeling her heart jump to her throat, Tonks knew it was because of her. He wouldn't return because of her.

"We were hoping you could have a few word with him," Kingsley finished, looking at Dumbledore.

He nodded eagerly, "Most definitely."

Again Tonks' heart gave a thump—this time so hard she thought it might damage her rib cage, or esophagus, wherever it was residing at the moment.

"He's always had a strong sense of duty," Dumbledore sat back in his chair, closing his eyes, "He needs reminding that his work is done. The wolves are nothing but brute force as he's found out first hand."

He then opened his eyes and gave each of his guests a nod and hearty thank you for their work. There seemed to be the smallest of winks included in Tonks' nod and it was then she realized her face ached for her lips were pulled back into the largest of grins. Remus was coming home. Hopefully. Not to be her lover again. Maybe not even to be her friend but with Dumbledore on her side, he was surely going to be safe. As the three of them left Dumbledore's office Tonks continued to smile and she knew then why Moody had told her to come along. She had nothing to say but everything to hear.

They rounded a corner and Tonks seemed to sing, "Thank you, Moody."

He rolled his eyes, "I didn't do it for you, Tonks."

"Don't be silly," she sang some more, feeling considerably lighter, "You love me and want to see me happy."

Kingsley was laughing now as Moody replied, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tonks."

::::

Night was closing in on the tiny room again so Tonks had to light a few candles. She kept the curtains drawn at night these days for fear of a peeping Proudfoot. He had given her a wide berth since her return from Hogwarts but Tonks knew it wouldn't last long and he in fact would want to be making up for lost time.

Once again Tonks was staring in the mirror at herself. She contorted her face into a panged expression and appeared to be trying to lay a great egg. Huffing, she looked at herself in the mirror.

Nothing. Nothing had changed. But she didn't understand. She was happy—Remus would be coming home and she felt lighter than she had felt in months. He would be safe. At least from the wolves. No one was really safe these days but your chances of death or harm increased if you stepped outside the protection of Dumbledore and the Order.

Remus had left partially on his own accord but surely after being told by Albus Dumbledore of all people it was time to come home, he would. He was cleared. He had never murdered anyone and everyone (well, everyone in the Order at least) knew it. He'd come home and ideas of being ripped apart by werewolves would end.

So why wasn't Tonks' hair changing colors? She knew she was out of practice so attempting to sprout a pig's snout or chicken beak would be tricky but surely going from brown hair to blonde hair was easy. But she couldn't manage it; Tonks pushed and thought of nothing but golden locks. It was nearly three in the morning before exhaustion got the better of her and she collapsed into her bed where she slept dreamlessly.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

_Good Things_

A twig snapped. There was a definite sound of snapping twigs. Eyes opened and nostrils flared to take in the sight and scent of the intruder. However as it was still quite dark outside and Remus was situated in his tent with flaps tightly strewn together, his sense of smell was his best bet. He inhaled deeply and tasted something sweet. Immediately his hand was on his wand as he moved soundlessly towards the opening of his tent. He silently undid the flaps and then emerged from the tent, wand drawn and ready to take aim.

It's a wonder he didn't. Sitting on an old, ragged stump just a rock's throw from the opening of the tent was Albus Dumbledore. He was humming to himself and didn't notice Remus for quite a while. But when he did, his eyes beamed with happiness and surprise, "Remus!" he called, "Whatever are _you_ doing here?"

"Dum…Dumbledore?"

The old wizard gave a flick of his wand and another stump appeared next to his, "Well, do take a seat. I see you have discovered my favorite place. I can't say I'm surprised. Just look at those trees. I'm surprised more people don't camp here."

Remus stared out to where Dumbledore was pointing. He hadn't noticed it in the dark when he pitched the tent but now as the morning sun began to show up, he could see that they were perched on the crest of a small hill, overlooking a sea of budding apple trees. The sky was turning a dusty blue and the birds were starting to sing.

"Quite lovely, eh?" Dumbledore asked, patting the second stump, "But how did you find it?"

Remus raised an eyebrow, "How did you find me, Dumbledore?"

The old wizard laughed to himself, shook his head and merely whispered, "Mysteries. Mysteries."

He knew he'd get no better answer out of Dumbledore so Remus chose just to sit next to him. For a long while, neither spoke but merely listened to the constant humming and chirping of birds, now waking up and shaking off the dew of the morning. From inside his robes, Dumbledore withdrew two large biscuits and offered one of them Remus, "Madam Sprout makes them for me," he explained, "And I do love them."

The biscuits were sweet and had poppy seeds all over them. Even just holding it in his hand made Remus' mouth water and Dumbledore made sure to take note of that, "Food hard to come by?" he asked, "I must say you are looking rather worn."

Remus only nodded and ate his biscuit.

Dumbledore also continued to chew at his food in silence. He once or twice threw out a remark that Remus could do with a shave (as his beard had come in rather fully) but nothing much more was said about it—it was old hat and known between them: Remus was hungry and hadn't seen another human being for some time now.

"What of the wolf pack?" Dumbledore asked after another stretch of silence.

There was a long pause, "I…I…things did not go according to plan, sir."

Dumbledore laughed at that, "Sir? Since when do you call me _sir_? I'd like to think we are old friends, Remus. And I say I scarcely ever call my friends _sir_. Except for dear Clayton Farciclaps. He's at Mungo's now, though. He's under the delusion that he's the crowned prince of France and won't speak to anyone unless you call him _Your Royal Majesty_ or at least _Sir_." At this Dumbledore had a good laugh, "But yes, things rarely go according to plan. Do tell me what's troubling you."

What was Remus to say? Surely he couldn't lie to Dumbledore (knowing the man's occlumency skills and just keen sense of people) but Remus wasn't sure he could bring himself to admit the whole truth. He fumbled for a while with his words, picking at the poppy seeds and not quite meeting Dumbledore's eyes. Even the birds seemed to have gone silent, waiting in anticipation for Remus' answer. He knew he had little choice soon though than to just admit everything.

"I'm not sure how I messed up…uh…Dumbledore…I just did somehow. I was taking such careful steps to cover my tracks and stay with the pack. I broke away once during Christmas but I thought that could be easily overlooked. The truth is…I…the wolves figured out there was a spy among them. I don't know how but some time ago…they…they started going through everyone…apparently _someone_ had leaked a few names," Remus then shared a look with Dumbledore, "Parthner, Bakning, Volfing. You remember."

"Quite. Can't forget names like that."

"Yes well the next thing you knew they were coming to me…seeing as I was one of the newer members it made sense. There were plenty that were newer than me but I guess it made sense. Somehow to them. I mean they _did_ guess the right man. I wasn't sure what else to do so I…I…they were asking me all these questions and then they left me alone, walked away like they were satisfied but they weren't. They were talking about me and always keeping an eye on me…so…so I left."

"You…left?"

"I shouldn't have. I know. I suppose I panicked and thought about…about all the ways I'd seen the wolves tear people apart. I left. I've been…I mean I couldn't go back to them because deserting them just like that basically told them I was a spy. Well now the Death Eaters know I'm with the Order. Oh well I suppose. I'm in no greater or lesser danger than I was a year ago. But I didn't do what I was asked of. I know that. I'm…I'm not sure what to do now really."

A long stretch of silence went by again. The birds still were lying doggo, amplifying the awkward silence that surrounded Remus. It was only made worse when Dumbledore finally spoke up and asked again, "You…you left?"

"Yes, Dumbledore. I left."

At that Dumbledore began to laugh, "Well I must say, Remus, that is possibly the most intelligent thing you've ever done! To leave them! Brilliant!" He went on laughing while Remus stared wide eyed for a great while. Dumbledore laughed so hard that he choked on the remainder of his biscuit he was finishing. When he had managed to cough the bakery free, he merely continued laughing and even stood to give Remus a round of applause. "Brilliant," he kept saying.

"Brilliant?" Remus asked.

"Absolutely. Absolutely brilliant," he gave another cough as a few poppy seeds flew out of his mouth and then he took his seat again, "Well what did you think you were supposed to do, my old friend? Stay there until they found you out and killed you?"

"But…but…I ran away so quickly! There might have been time! I could have…I could have stayed on longer if I hadn't panicked as I had!"

"You did what you felt was necessary, Remus," Dumbledore patted him on the back, "And besides…you have done wonderfully. You've kept the line of communication open between the Order and the wolves and given us a hefty number of names. We know the wolves are used for power more so than anything so any juicy information is unlikely to be found in them. We do know, however, about their upcoming raid on Surrey. And how do we know all this? Because of you! What? Did you expect me to call you a failure? A coward? Please, Remus. You should try to have a little confidence."

Still humming to himself happily Dumbledore licked his fingers clean of any remaining taste of biscuit. Remus had yet to pick his jaw up off the ground.

"I just…I thought…it was such a good plan."

Dumbledore nodded, "Ah yes. Well, the best laid plans. Say, Remus, do you think often about Lily Evans?"

It was a long while before the shock of Dumbledore's reaction to Remus' abandonment had run its course and the new shock could take effect. But when it did Remus was just as confused.

"Lily Evans…sir?"

"With that sir again! Really, Remus, I can't very well go on with you calling me that," he was chuckling now but retained his somber stance when he posed the question again, "Do you think about Lily Evans much? I must say I do. A very wonderful and extremely talented young woman."

Nodding Remus said, "Yes. It's a crime that Harry doesn't get to know her." Of course he missed her and of course they had been friends some years (that now felt like eons) ago but what exactly Dumbledore was getting at, Remus couldn't tell.

It wasn't until the old wizard turned to Remus and asked (rather nonchalantly), "There was nothing _between _you and her, was there? Back during your time at Hogwarts I mean."

Now Remus was very confused. Dumbledore was possibly the last person he thought would be asking him any kind of personal question and yet here he was—staring almost starry eyed at Remus and asking questions about his prior love life. It was almost laughable. 

"Um…no…" Remus stammered, "Dumbledore, why exactly are you-"

"You were both Prefects if I do remember."

"Yes."

"Spent a lot of time together."

"Yes but what are you getting-"

"It just seemed natural that you should like her. She was a very pretty girl after all."

Remus took a breath, "She was very pretty and one of the nicest people I've ever met but there was nothing like that between us."

But Dumbledore wasn't done, "_But you liked her, didn't you_?"

What in God's name was he doing? Before Remus could stammer out an answer that might possibly answer the man's question without lying but also not revealing too much and getting the point across that Remus desperately wanted to know what the old man was doing, Dumbledore broke eye contact and sighed, "Ah, youth."

"Dumbledore," Remus said firmly, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a good thing it didn't work out. You and Lily."

Remus was flustered but still too polite to interrupt.

"Lily Evans was an exceedingly wonderful girl and I, like many teachers, took a fondness to her. And you were probably much more like her than James ever was. You two—the two Prefects—were two peas in a pod really. Both extremely talented and polite and both so determined to prove that you were better than the backgrounds you had come from. Had you not been so gracious to your friend, James, Remus, I bet a good thing could have sprung between you and Lily.

But you see, Lily, dear, sweet Lily, had an eye for the weak. She cared about things far more when she thought they were helpless and could take shelter in her. She never once thought that she was in need of shelter as well. And that's where James came into the picture and I think he changed all that about her. Lily wouldn't have allowed the weak to grow stronger but simply let them go on as they were—telling them they were fine just as they were though they were scared and…" Dumbledore's eyes fell on Remus at last, "Didn't quite fit in their own skin.

"I suppose you were too much of a good friend to let James see how unhappy you were when he finally got the date with Lily Evans his seventh year. You've always been such a good friend like that, Remus."

Remus didn't know how Dumbledore knew all this but then again it was Dumbledore he was talking to. Any guess was probably likely.

Dumbledore took another good stare out at the trees and listened to the birds. Their singing had begun again and every ounce of forest seemed to be teeming with song. The old wizard smiled and said, "Yes a good thing could have sprung up between you and Lily but sometimes good things fall apart so great things can fall together," he sighed deeply before adding, "_If_ we let them that is."

With heart in throat Remus didn't know what to say. He kicked at the ground as it seemed to have become his nervous habit and merely said, "You've been talking to Moody?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "And they want you come home. They _all_ want you to come home. I trust Alastor and Kingsley have informed you that your name has been cleared."

Of course they had told Remus. And made it very clear to him that he was free to come home now. With Scrimgeour out of the Auror Office and Bramberger scared off his rocker of Moody now, there was no reason why Remus shouldn't come home. But civilization was just as much home to Remus as the woods were. What Moody and Kingsley didn't understand is that he had no home. There had been no definite place that Remus belonged since he had left Hogwarts. For a while, the comfort and company of his father had been there but after years of holding back tears and working his fingers to the bone, life gave out on John Lupin. He left his son debt free and also managed to keep the house from going under. But bills pile up and questions are asked. Even in the house Remus had grown up in, he couldn't feel wanted.

Remus focused on the ground, "For how long will I be a free man though? This will only keep going, Dumbledore. You can't protect me forever. The Order can't protect me forever. I get notes. I get evil looks. I've been beat up. I've been whipped. When people find out what I am, they can barely talk to me. They ignore me. And on top of that…I…I mess things up, Dumbledore. I try not to think about it but no matter where I go there seems to be a wake of things I've left amiss. Sirius and…everything."

But Dumbledore was still smiling, "I cannot say I will always be there to protect you but I can say you have friends here and these friends know the man and not the monster. You have friends, Remus. And believe me when I say _great things will happen_…if you let them happen." He opened his arms wide as if to embrace the surrounding forest and stared at it, "This is beautiful. This is a lovely spot for camping or hiking…of which I do love…but this cannot be where you belong, Remus. This cannot be where you will flourish. You have talents and your talents are needed elsewhere. Even if you think you don't deserve it, believe that they are needed. The Order needs them. I need them. Many people need them."

Remus knew who Dumbledore meant when he said _many people_. He had no idea how Dumbledore knew—perhaps Moody or Molly had slipped him some information while Remus had been away or maybe Dumbledore was just like that, in know of everything around him. He didn't have to say that he understood exactly why Remus left in such a hurry and that it hadn't been so much about the Order as he had painted it. After so many years and so much education, the talent and brightness had developed and sure the boy was now a man but still Dumbledore still saw a scared eleven year old whose father was begging Dumbledore to find some way to get his son to Hogwarts. Overworked. Tired. Brave and still dreaming. Perhaps Remus didn't admit it but the little knight was in fact still dreaming. He had never stopped dreaming.

Dumbledore stood then and gave his wand a flick. Immediately the tent wrapped itself up into a manageable size and laid itself at Remus' feet. He couldn't look at Dumbledore when he said, "This is all I have you know. This is everything. I haven't got a house or even a knut to my name. I haven't got a thing." Remus dipped down to pick up his whole life in his hands—just the small tent, about the size of a shoebox now and a worn out coat on his back. Everything he owned.

"And the funny thing is," Dumbledore hummed, "She wouldn't have you any other way." Without missing a beat, he held out his arm to Remus and added, "I'll do the honors of getting us back to Hogwarts. I do believe the castle has spare bedrooms. I just must find where I last left them. Oh well, we'll manage. Then I'm going to take you to Professor Flitwick. He does have the cleverest razor I have ever seen, Remus. Please do not take offense to this but I'm afraid some men can pull off the wild man look and you are not one of them."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

_Boxing_

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The wide berth Proudfoot had been giving Tonks was gone. A few weeks and he was back to his usual stalking. Stalking was the wrong word Tonks thought. Stalking implied a need or desire to follow pretty but it seems Proudfoot had definitely lost his edge when it came to trailing her and definitely any kind of pleasure in his task. These days he was sluggish and showed Tonks every bit of contempt he could muster even when she was doing exactly what Bramberger wanted. It was dawning on Proudfoot that Tonks was seriously cramping his style. But despite how much he hated his duties, he never let up.

That morning he was at the window of the Three Broomsticks, basically with a nose pressed to the glass, trying to watch Tonks as she ate her breakfast. She had taken to just ignoring him but a great number of the guests at the restaurant couldn't seem to. A few women looked as though they had come upon the greatest scandal of the times as he peered in on them.

But something else was catching their attention and of course it had to do with Tonks. Any kind of disturbance seemed to spring somehow from her. A graying wizard entered the Three Broomsticks and as he pushed open the door, a large owl swooped in and landed at Tonks' side. He carried with him a parchment and eagerly gave it over to Tonks.

It was the one bit of excitement she had gotten all day. The note was from Dumbledore—addressing the fact he would be leaving the castle again tonight and was in need of Tonks to patrol the halls.

_Thank God,_ Tonks thought, _Anything is better is this._

She casually looked up at Proudfoot who was not involved with something wretched under his nail. Tonks seriously considered Disapparting then but figured if there was one thing Proudfoot liked more than doing his duty, it was ratting her out. She could leave in a puff and he would just as easily be gone to the Ministry and at Bramberger's side.

The Hogwarts owl was now pecking at Tonks' hand. She gave it a curious look and then remembered that despite the fact that this was her job and she could hardly refuse an order, Dumbledore still always allowed Tonks to send an owl in acceptance of his invitation or declining it. More than anything Tonks wanted to get out of Hogsmeade so she quickly darted to the bar to borrow a quill, scratched out a boom yes on the extra piece of parchment and sent the owl away with it. Tonks glanced at the window and had a chuckle to herself at the thought of Proudfoot's face when he found out she'd be out his precious sight again. Or maybe he'd be relieved. In all other past experiences it had taken nothing less than a written statement from Dumbledore to get Proudfoot to relieve Tonks of her duties. She stared down at the headmaster's letter still in her hands and took special note his usual perfect signature. Proudfoot couldn't argue this. He'd have to let her go.

Tonks quickly paid her bill and then proceeded to head towards the door. Upon reaching the outside she noticed that Proudfoot was taking no care to hide the fact he was watching her so she took this an invitation and approached him with Dumbledore's letter, "I've got special orders," she said, handing Proudfoot the parchment, "The headmaster wants me up at the school. Paroling and stuff I expect."

"Alright," was all he said. He barely glanced at the note Tonks had and in fact was back to picking at something under his nails.

"That's okay?" Tonks asked, "I can go? I mean…I'm going whether you want me to or not…but you're not going to put up a stink about it?"

Shaking his head Proudfoot said, "I suspect not."

"Well, that's…different," Tonks managed a smile, "It's getting harder to trail me, huh?"

"No. That's not it. I just came to the realization you're not the bad guy after all, Tonks."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They caught the creep that did the murders. Geneieve. You know? Bu that wolf…that…what's his name? Bessie. Beau Bessie. The one who was on trial. They executed him."

The world suddenly came to great halt, "What?" Tonks stared, wide eyed at Proudfoot, "They…they killed him?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Just like that. Bramberger just wanted something. Azkaban can't house a werewolf so they killed him a few months ago…before the next full moon came out. Can't say how they did it mind you. I suspect just the killing curse. Painless I expect but still…there you go."

"I can't…I can't believe it."

Again Proudfoot was busy digging at something in his nail. He was aloof now—betrayed apparently by the men he had fought to protect. He had nothing more to say to Tonks after that and for the first time in months he just walked away and let Tonks be.

Her feet felt particularly heavy as Tonks trudged up the hill again to Hogwarts. She knew this whole thing had had nothing to do with justice or the truth. Scrimgeour and Bramberger had just been looking at how to get wolves off the streets. Maybe they had their own reasons and had seen the damage that werewolves could do but now they were forced to see just how much hurt their vendetta could do. Of course to them, what was Beau's life? By the time Tonks had reached the enchanted gates surrounding Hogwarts, she had a very horrible headache.

An Auror appeared from the other side of the gates and after a few questions and tests allowed Tonks inside. The first thing Tonks figured she would do was to go see Dumbledore as was usually the case. Even in the summer sunshine Tonks felt heavy and her appearance caught a few people's attention.

"Why the long face?" she heard someone call out. She spun to see a very cheery looking Bill and and equally cheery Fleur walking hand in hand towards her.

Tonks shook her head, "Oh…hi. Nothing is wrong. Just…just tired I guess. What are you two doing here?"

"We are 'ere to 'elp protect ze students too!" Fleur squealed, "Es so exciting."

Tonks eyed the pair of them, "Me too. Is Dumbledore in?"

"No," Bill said, "He's been in and out. Just got called in this morning."

"Must be pretty serious. Something must be wrong," Tonks stared around at the open corridor they were in. The sun was streaming in from the windows and the air felt warm and tasted sweet. Everything felt like a storybook day—not a fearful thing to be seen.

"Yes. I suspect so," Bill answered.

The moment the conversation turned from anything professional, Tonks knew she had to get out of there for Fleur was just fawning over her fiancée who was equally fawning over her. The two were cute of course but to the point of gagginess with Fleur constantly running her hands through Bill's hair and Bill continually talking about how cute his "little cherry blossom" was. Tonks tried to tell herself they weren't rubbing their cuteness in her face but that didn't stop her from quickly excusing herself from their presence and feeling no shame about avoiding them for the rest of the day.

If there was something amiss that Dumbledore was fearful about, Tonks couldn't see it. She spent the whole day just paroling the east side of the school as she was told Bill and Fleur would be on the west side. A fight broke out between a few students and at one point a fire mysteriously caught but Tonks knew a Zonko's product when she saw it so she wasn't too worried. Aside from that, nothing of importance happened. Around dinner the students began to file past her towards the kitchen and it wasn't long before she caught sight of familiar faces.

Ginny and Hermione were the first to approach her, both asking why there was all the new protection.

"I've seen it everywhere!" Ginny exclaimed, "Something is happening, isn't it?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I haven't caught so much as a whiff of a Death Eater—just some poorly behaved Slytherin students," Tonks sighed, "I don't know why Dumbledore wants us here."

A very sullen looking Dean Thomas approached the trio then and Ginny (looking exasperated) followed him out to the main hall. That gave Hermione and Tonks a brief moment to themselves.

"How are things with you and…Ron?" Tonks smiled.

Shrugging Hermione said, "Same as always I guess. He and Lavender broke up so…well, that…well he won't be such a slob anymore," she eyed the people passing by nervously as she quickly changed the subject, "How about you and…Remus?"

Likewise Tonks shrugged, "I haven't seen him since Christmas. I just…I just hope he's okay."

At that Hermione gave a queer look, "Well he's here you know."

"What?"

"Yes. He's been up by the Gryffindor room. That's where I've seen him. I think he was looking for Harry but…Harry has his own ideas and is never around. Oh, yes, Tonks, Remus is here now. I don't know why."

"How…how does he look? Did you talk to him?"

"I said hello and he said hello back and he asked me how my year was going and I told him fine and that was basically it. He looked tired mostly. But he seemed in good spirits."

Another wave of students came and Hermione was taken away with them. the two had probably said all they needed to say and what Hermione had left Tonks left her both happier than before and completely inconsolable. Of course Tonks' first response to this was to search the castle (however big it was) until she found Remus. To know he was alright , safe and apparently in good spirits filled Tonks with some kind of light and fluffy air. She thought she might float right off the ground as she began to walk, just trying to get away from the congestion of hungry students. To see him again was a happier thought than she'd had in a long time—to see that crooked smile and blue eyes—dark blue eyes. Like poetry. Maybe to hold him. That curvature of his body fit perfectly with hers. The feel of his hair entangled in her fingers. It was tempting and it took all of Tonks' energy not to go running off to find him because it was then that she thought about Remus and their last encounter. He'd pry her off if she tried to attack him with hugs or kisses. He'd talk about monsters and the like. What good came from seeing him if she couldn't hold him like she'd like to? To see him was wonderful but thoughts flooded Tonks mind. He was safe. He was home. Everything should be fine. But still Tonks hair wasn't changing colors. She practiced everyday and tried with all her might to get even just a shade difference in hair color. Still there was nothing. Tonks was beginning to think her desires were less selfless than she had originally thought. Perhaps she would never be totally happy unless he would be her lover again.

With feet like lead now she took herself up and around the far north end of Hogwarts and found herself just pacing. In the end she decided to retreat back to the main hall where at least she could do some good while protecting the students. Slowly the hour went on the children pulled themselves from their Sheppard's pie and made their way up to their dormitories. Tonks caught sight of Hermione but they said nothing to one another—Tonks was pleased at least to note that closely at Hermione's side was Ron, talking and still chewing happily on a last hunk of chocolate cake. Slowly the halls cleared out and all was silent again. Professor Sprout appeared at one point and ushered Tonks into the main hall so that she could have some dinner. It hadn't dawned on her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Tonks quickly ate some beef stew and mashed potatoes while dear old Sprout went on about how weary the poor girl was looking. She thanked her old teacher and then made her way back out and up a few flights.

The evening went on rather dully but after a great while absentmindedly (or purposefully) Tonks found herself on the seventh floor. She hadn't meant to walk by the Gryffindor's portrait hole but she did and found no one there. Again she felt both relief and horrible disappointment all in one moment.

Another hour passed and nothing had stirred. Tonks knew she had to move elsewhere and couldn't stay on the seventh floor but time and time again she found her feet moving up the stairs and to the portrait hole. She even stopped and just waited for a while thinking maybe Remus would show up again. But the Fat Lady was in a rather foul mood was shooed Tonks off before long so she just kept walking in one giant circle away from the portrait hole and then back again.

During one of these jaunts she came upon an old, familiar face. Muttering to herself and wielding a bottle (which was sure to be cooking sherry) Tonks found good old Professor Trelawney. It had been years since Tonks had taken a class with her but it seemed the woman hadn't changed. She still had the air of a butterfly that had been kept out of sun for a great time—big and flamboyant but with delicate, pale skin that was in definite need of sunlight. It seemed Trelawney didn't even register another person was there but simply kept walking on past Tonks, whispering something under her breath and ripping the label off her bottle.

Tonks was almost in the clear when suddenly Trelawney spoke up, "The sun and moon!" she shouted.

Spinning to meet her eyes, Tonks found Trelawney had her back to her and was now shaking. She repeated herself, "The sun and the moon!"

"I'm sorry? Professor?"

It was then that the big eyes turned and met Tonks' gaze—her voice never shook though her body trembled like a leaf in the wind, "The sun and the moon, my dear," Trelawney said once more, "Within a year's time, the moon will have his sun."

As if such saying a thing wasn't odd enough, Trelawney suddenly stopped shaking, turned away from Tonks and carried on walking as if nothing had happened. Tonks could help but laugh and made no effort to stifle it.

::::

Another hour passed and still nothing was out of the ordinary. Aside from the occasional run in with Fleur and Bill (of which Tonks always scurried away from as quickly as possible) the castle was dead. Tonks found herself bored which was saying something considering it was Hogwarts. She had made her way to the second floor when again Tonks caught sight of someone she knew and this someone (thankfully) was neither drunk nor annoyingly in love. It was Moody of call people. He gave an approving nod to Tonks and began to walk with her. They spoke very little but the company was better than being alone. Both of them were hypothesizing why Dumbledore wanted all this protection on this night and really getting nowhere in the discussion. Around that time was when the explosion happened.

The force was so fierce that it threw the two apart—Tonks flew back and found herself slapped up against the stone walls. She slid to the floor and tried to pick herself up, feeling her forehead where a trickle of flood had begun to flow. In the half of a second that she had been out of it the entire corridor was filled with a dense smoke. Try as she might, Tonks couldn't see two feet in front of her. She drew her wand but no lumos charm would cut through it.

"Moody!" she yelled.

A spell fired towards her and Tonks threw herself at the ground again. She tried to call out to Moody but was forced head first into battle with this unnamed person before her. She threw out spell after spell, ducking behind pieces of furniture and helplessly groping the wall as something that could ground her. Green lights sizzled the grayed air and Tonks knew this person was out for a kill—she continued to throw spells blindly into the air and ceased only when the return fire had stopped. Again she called for her mentor and again he gave no answer. Tonks slid to the floor again and crawled on her knees through the fog, chucking aside pieces of chairs that had gotten in the way of the battle—soon she even came up on broken glass and had to pick herself up to avoid getting cut. When Tonks could find no body of her attacker, she decided to move deeper into the corridor rather than attempting to search any more. A few yards deeper in and the smoke began to clear. She rose to her feet and stared at the fog that was encompassing the hallway before immediately sending a Patronus to Sprout. Tonks knew for a fact that she was around but as for the other teachers, she could be sure. In its usual dramatic fashion, Tonks' Patronus bayed at an unseen moon and then quickly disappeared into the smoke.

"That was very weird," Tonks whispered to herself, "Where the hell did that-"

Another explosion broke out. Tonks was thrown against the wall again as more blood began to run. She kept her eyes open long enough to see the fog roll into this section of the hallway too. Thankfully, though, she heard footsteps and shouts. More spells were fired and the definite crisp yell of Moody was heard. Unsure of where the enemy or the ally lay, Tonks just kept herself pressed against the wall and waited a great while for the spells to cease. Another huff and curse from Moody told her that they had won this round.

"Moody!" she shouted into the blankness.

"Will you shut up?" he yelled back, "Break up into teams now!" he turned his attention back to the group—apparently there was a group, "Red team heads to the seventh floor! Blue, you're to the dungeons!"

The sounds of more footsteps filled the air as Tonks spoke up, walking blindly into the fog, "Wait! What…? Teams? When did that happen? What team am I on?"

"You're with me!" Tonks heard Kingsley call towards her right. She fumbled towards the sound of his voice, tripping on another piece of broken furniture. As she picked herself back up, a body came into focus but Tonks didn't have enough skill to keep herself from tripping over another hunk of chair and she slammed right into the person's side.

"Sorry!" she shrieked as she moved past the body, catching the person's eye and then freezing in her tracks.

Remus.

With the fog surrounding them, it felt like they were in their own little world—sounds of grunts and arguing could be heard but nothing was seen. Against the white backdrop, all Tonks knew was before her was Remus. She didn't know what to say and he appeared to be just as lost for words as she. He looked good. He looked better than he had looked at Christmas—clean shaven, well fed and like his usual self. Tonks thought for a moment she could stand there all night and look at him—to make up for all the lost time—but all too soon there was a hand enclosing around her wrist and Kingsley was pulling her deeper into the fog, away from Remus. He never turned his back to her but kept watching her disappear until she was really gone.

Apparently they were coming in from all over—no one had a clue how the Death Eaters were getting in. Moody and his group were leading students down to the dungeon while Kingsley was taking his to the seventh corridor where a group had last been seen before the attack on the second floor. Tonks stumbled up the step, numb from the two blows she had just sustained in the past five minutes and the shocking sight of Remus just now. Her hands and feet felt so weird that she had to climb the stairs on her hands just to be sure she wouldn't fall right off of them. She fell behind and was in the end running to catch up with the group when a third attack went off.

The fog fell over the Aurors again and blindly everyone began throwing spells at each other. Tonks caught sight of a black cape and aimed for that—trying her best to remember if anyone in her group had been wearing black. Kingsley was in blue. That much she knew. And Remus was in his usual brown. Tonks had to stop herself—who cares what color Remus was wearing? He was down in the dungeons now, directing students. She knew she had to focus on killing Death Eaters right now and save anything else for later.

Right as she was recovering was when Bellatrix came upon Tonks. It was a quick attack and very Muggle for Bellatrix for out of nowhere she was flying at her niece and punching her in the face. She punched so hard that the blood began to gush from Tonks' mouth—she lifted her hand to her face, sure that she had just lost a tooth. Before Bellatrix could disappear, though, Tonks had enough of a chance to aim her wand at the back of her head and set fire to it. The last Tonks saw of Bellatrix was a few black tips of hair, singeing under the heat of orange flames.

Another Death Eater came upon her and Tonks quickly took him down but after that the fog became too thick to see much more. She could again no longer tell who was friend and who was foe so Tonks merely fell to the floor and wound her way towards a wall, taking out anyone wearing boots she didn't recognize. Tonks stayed against the wall again, concealed quite well, until again the firing stopped. She listened and thankfully heard Kingsley sigh. They had won again. He began moving the troops out towards the north to where he thought the fog would lift. All the Aurors followed the sound of Kingsley's voice but to their great dismay, the battle was far from over.

Every few feet or so another explosion went off, another round of Death Eater attacks came and the blindness only continued. Tonks' head was throbbing—quickly emptying itself of blood—but she kept getting up and taking out anyone she could. She and Fleur stopped just in time before they could take one another out.

As she was lowering her wand, Fleur threw out, "Forgive me. I'm being stupid. You should be easier to pick out in a crowd than that."

Tonks nodded, "Same to you."

Time and time again, Tonks was finding herself pressed against a wall—either flung there or hanging on for dear life while an unseen war went on before her. Occasionally someone stumbled upon her and attempted to take her out but even with a low humming in her ears and blood in her eyes, Tonks could see them coming.

The battled raged on. Maybe an hour had gone by since the first explosion and still Tonks sat perched against another wall, firing spells at someone she wasn't quite sure was the bad guy. Again the sounds died out and again Tonks waited for Kingsley's order to move forward. She sighed, cursed under her breath and followed the sound of his voice to another battle.

But this time there was no battle. They marched on for a good part of the hallway without so much as a whisper from anyone. Immediately though, Kingsley was ordering everyone to retreat. As soon as they turned and ran with all their might back into the fog, the spells began to fire again. But Kingsley ordered everyone to keep going so they went, stumbling through pieces of crumbled wall and smashed chairs—tripping on everything that got in the way of their feet. Tonks fell on her face more than once and someone had to pick her up more than once. Still the troops sprinted through the dark with green and red spells licking at the heels of their boots. They came to the stairs again and were ordered down them—Tonks tumbled most of the way down and was thankfully picked up by Kingsley who pushed her forward and marched her towards the great hall.

It was no better here, though. Death Eaters (including Bellatrix) were dancing across the tables, smashing plates and burning large holes in any portraits that hung nearby. Bellatrix seemed to be doing the most dancing on Hufflepuff's table and Tonks had a feeling her aunt knew she was watching. But still Kingsley was pushing them on. He must have thought that Tonks was of no use to him in her wound up and beat up condition. He and a few other troops marched into the great hall but told Tonks to wait there for Moody. It was the worst possible direction to give anyone Tonks thought. There was a battle going on right under their noses and Kingsley expected her to wait there like a good girl? But when she tried to take a step and found her knees wouldn't hold her, she began to see Kingsley's logic. Her poor nerves didn't stop her from taking out a Death Eater or two when they ran by though.

In a flash the doors to the great hall opened and out scampered more Death Eaters—Bellatrix along with them, laughing manically. Kingsley and his troops ushered them as far as out the door but didn't follow. When he caught Tonks' confused expression he merely said, "They're on the retreat. No use in chasing them."

::::

McGonagall was crying. Tonks figured it had less to do with Bill and more to do with the state of her school. The walls were missing huge hunks of stone and some paintings had been damaged beyond repair. Where once the place had been sweet and welcoming, now it looked like a death hole.

She walked into the hospital wing, sobbing, took one look around and left.

Tonks couldn't blame her exactly. Her eyes fell on the far bed where a very beaten up Bill lay. Madam Pomfrey was busy attending to his wounds though to Tonks, she didn't know what she could do. No matter what the nurse put on the wounds, they continued to sprout open, bleeding fresh again. The best she could was wrap them delicately and hope for the bleeding to stop. She then turned her attention to Tonks, "Oh dear. You look…well…what happened?"

Kingsley had sent Tonks up here as soon as he had assured her the Death Eaters were leaving but that had been a while ago and still no one else was in the hospital wing. Surely someone else beside Bill and Tonks had sustained injuries.

"Just part of the job," Tonks said to Pomfrey.

The nurse began wiping some cream on Tonks' wounds and (unlike Bill's) they cleared up easily. She assessed the damage done to Tonks' skull and concluded nothing permanent had taken place. Thankfully Pomfrey had Tonks open her mouth and wiped that clean too before pulling out her wand and regrowing the two chipped teeth Bellatrix had given Tonks.

"Just rest now," she said as she hurried off to Bill again.

But how was Tonks supposed to rest? She didn't hear any more battling going on but no one was joining her here? Were some beyond Pomfrey's care? Shaking her head, Tonks decided she didn't want to think about it. Instead she laid back on the cot and tried her best to rest but no amount of coaxing seemed to do the trick. Luckily about then the door opened and a hoard of people rushed in—none of them appeared too beat up but all were anxiously making their way towards Bill.

"Oh god," someone said. Tonks recognized that voice as Hermione's.

"What happened?" another spoke up—this one, Ginny.

"Greyback," someone whispered. At first it didn't register but when it did Tonks was sitting up and staring across the room at Remus as he too looked sadly at Bill, sprawled out on his cot.

The door opened again and McGonagall entered now with Harry in tow. Immediately Harry went with the group and stared at the horrid scars all over Bill.

"Greyback," Remus repeated himself, "He was attacked. I can't say…I don't know what will happen to him." He turned then, as if to get the image of Bill's mutilated body out of his mind and his eyes fell on Tonks, bandaged up now but still bloodied.

To her great relief he didn't ignore her but instead came right to her side, "Are you alright?" he whispered."

"All part of the job," Tonks shrugged.

McGonagall gave another sniffle and everyone looked to her—it was not common to see her cry once let alone twice. Still there she stood, the great Professor McGonagall in tears. She spoke up then, saying something that silenced any chatter, "Dumbledore is dead."

The only one who didn't turn in complete shock was Harry—apparently he had been there—as he began to relay a story involving the astronomy tower, Severus Snape and the body of Albus Dumbledore. Questions began flying everywhere and guilt was thrown every which way as well. Anyone who had remotely been involved seemed to be taking up blame for the death of Albus Dumbledore was something that didn't just happen. It required a heavy amount of unforeseen planning and lots of mistakes. It shook everyone. It couldn't be true. McGonagall was crying into her handkerchief again and the whole room seemed to go stagnant.

Tonks opened her mouth to say more but just then the doors burst open again and Molly and Arthur came scurrying in. Almost immediately Remus removed himself from Tonks' side.

"Oh! My boy! My sweet boy!" Molly rushed to Bill's side while Arthur stood at a distance, eyeing his son nervously. He then turned to Remus, "He was attacked by Greyback. We heard. What…what is going to happen, Remus?

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. He could be fine…he could…he could be…be infected. I don't know."

"But Greyback wasn't in wolf form," Arthur tried to steady his voice.

"No, he wasn't. But maybe the bite still does the same damage."

Molly tried her best to hold her composure as she helped Pomfrey spread some heavy cream all across Bill's face. Her voice caught though as she looked at him and said, "My poor boy. Just look…just look at him. Will he be alright? I don't mean a werewolf. I mean will he live?"

"I believe so," Pomfrey sighed.

Taking Bill's hand, Molly continued to just stare lovingly at him, "My sweet boy. Oh, my sweet Bill. And he…he was going to get married."

"_What do you mean WAS_ _going to get married?"_

All the silence left the room as Fleur marched her way into the hospital just then, taking a very definite place in front of Pomfrey and staring Molly down across the bed. She ripped the bowl of medication out of her hands and said hotly, "Do you think that I don't want to marry Bill now? Is that what you think? You think just a few bites and I'm going to run away? You are seriously mistaken! Do you think it would take more than a little werewolf to make Bill stop loving me? Hah! I think I am good looking enough for the two of us! Those scars are nothing! They only show that my husband is brave!"

It all had come out of nowhere—both Fleur and her sudden defiant speech. Eye brows couldn't help but rise and a few odd looks were exchanged. The only people who seemed to be taking any of this seriously were Fleur (who looked livid) and Molly (who looked on the brink of tears). And then there was Tonks who was eyeing Fleur curiously. For someone who had put curling her hair five steps above eating, Fleur was certainly standing in a different light now. Bill had always been good looking so it was obvious why Fleur had chosen him—but now here he was with scars across his face and all the good looks hidden away beneath horrid gashes—and Fleur still wanted him. On top of that there was the chance that he had caught lycanthropy and still there was Fleur. The stupid, giggling girl Tonks had seen dreamily running her hands through Bill's hair seemed so far away.

Before Tonks could get any words out both Molly and Fleur had collapsed into a fit a tears and hugging. She blinked and apparently mother and daughter-in-law had bonded for life. Her mouth was dry but Tonks pushed through and said, "You…you want to marry him? Even though he's been bit by a werewolf?"

Immediately she saw Remus' body tense but Fleur wasn't sensing it. She looked straight at Tonks, looking still quite angry and said, "Of course! What kind of girl do you think I am?"

Before she could stop herself Tonks turned to Remus, "You see?" She yelled, "She wants to be with him even though he's been bitten!"

His face went bright red and his eyes glanced around at the people staring at him before hitting the floor, "I…it's not the same."

"How is it not the same?"

"Bill probably won't be a full-fledged werewolf. He'll be…a normal-"

"_But I don't care! I've told you a million times!"_

Tonks was standing now and moving towards Remus with more force than she thought she could muster. She knew she was being selfish—knew how fidgety he got when put on the spot like that but to see the exact same thing as she and Remus had happen before their eyes perfectly while they were going under was too much. It wasn't enough anymore to watch him and pray for Remus' safety from afar. Tonks loved him. She had loved him for a long time now. She wanted nothing more than him. But still he was fighting.

"_And I've told you a million times!_" Remus said pointedly, "I'm too old…too poor…and too dangerous."

Prying herself away from Fleur, Molly jumped in then, "I've always said you're being rather ridiculous about this whole thing, Remus-"

He spun around again, feeling completely off. Crowds were not his thing. People looking at him was not his thing. Still he pushed on, "I'm not being ridiculous about this!" and he turned to look at Tonks again with something that had gone missing for some time now—a soft, almost longing look buried deep within the blue eyes, "Tonks deserves someone young and whole."

Her stomach quivered in a fit of anger or possibly it was doing back flips under Remus' gaze—Tonks couldn't tell.

"But she wants you!" Molly pushed before looking back at her son, "And besides young and whole boys do not always remain so."

A few people were trying to not look at Remus—particularly the boys who felt awkward beyond belief. Hermione though stood in the back with a ragged smile on her face.

"This is not the time to discuss this," Remus said, "Dumbledore has just died!"

To make Remus feel even more uncomfortable McGonagall was stepping in now, "Dumbledore would have been happier than anyone to know there was a little more love in the world."

Breathing heavily and feeling a trickle of sweat starting to run down her neck, Tonks suddenly felt for Remus. She reached her hand out to take hold of his, wishing it hadn't gone like this—his eyes on the floor and a distinct look of anger on his face. She never managed to take Remus' hand before again the doors of the hospital were opened and Hagrid was entering. The whole room jumped at his sudden appearance and the quiet took over again. Before much more could be said Moody was gathering his shaken up troops and barking out orders.

"We need a lock down on all the houses. Kingsley, you take Slytherin. Barkby, you take Ravenclaw. Lupin, Gryffindor. Tonks, Hufflepuff. Get going and don't let any student out of their dormitory."

Suddenly Tonks face was hot and red—her outburst had done nothing. Moody was back to his usual self, paying no attention to her and people were already at the door, eager to get out and do their duty. At the front of the pack was Remus.

::::

But the little knight goes on. Through the terrors of the night and excruciating full moons. Through it all, the little knight goes on because he knows there must be something better for him than the harsh words of the people throwing stones at him. He knows he is better than that and he can do good. He must do good because the little knight knows that's all he's good for. No one wants a knight that does ill. That's an oxymoron for warriors are to be fearless but so that they protect the weak and uphold all that is good. An evil knight doesn't make sense. A selfish knight doesn't make sense.

But on this particular night, alone in a castle, the knight was crying—leaning up against the stone walls of a common room that once belonged to him and crying.

Remus tried to brush the tears away but it was useless—twenty more followed for each he rubbed off. It didn't make sense. Why of all the people in the world was he damned to a fleeting and unattainable happiness? What made the sickening thing worse is that Remus wished now more than ever he had never tasted such happiness. Had the stupid knight not been so honest and felt he had to be so noble, he would have just left with no letter and no trace of infatuation to be found. Perhaps thoughts about love would have never entered Tonks' mind and she'd be happy now. But instead she was crying and Remus was all alone…again.

But the little knight goes on.

_But to what_? Remus thought then. _What's the use?_

::::

Somewhere there were birds that were singing. All the paintings surrounding the great hall had been in some way destroyed but it seemed somehow some little song bird managed to sneak into the curled up corners of a picture and sing. Trapped in their tattered pages, the birds were no freer than anyone else—and still they sang. Tonks pushed the peeling corner of the painting back and tried to press it back into place but the deep gashes that dug all the way to the wood wouldn't allow such corrections. Still there sat the birds, belting their love songs as loudly as possible.

She turned back to face the great hall. After hours of nothing much more than a few question filled Hufflepuff students dying to know anything, Moody had sent Tonks away to start cleaning up a bit. She took special note of the thick scuff marks on her old house's table—left of course by her dear aunty. Bent spoons, knives, plates and saucers laid everywhere. Tonks couldn't put her foot down without having it crunch some piece of dented tin or glass—the sight of depressing and heartbreaking to the extreme. She tried to whisk some kind of magic that would fix the damage but Tonks had never been good with these spells.

Another crunch sounded, causing Tonks to jump. She raised her wand defensively but immediately stopped herself when she realized it was Remus who had just entered the great hall. His eyes were just as wide eyed as hers—tired but a bit shocked.

"Hello," Remus said, his voice catching on something that sounded like fear.

"Hello," Tonks said back.

A long, awkward silence went by before Tonks finally got out, "I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. About…what happened in the hospital wing…I…I know you don't like attention on you like that. I just…lost my head. I'm sorry."

A nod from Remus signaled he was accepting her apology but there were clearly other things on his mind. Tonks studied him, half relieved to see those ragged features and half terrified, recognizing now new scars had been added to them. At Christmas the stubble had hidden much of it but now nothing could do so. He was beaten but the smallest of smiles crept onto his face—disappearing as soon as it came.

Without much thought to it, the words just suddenly slipped out, "I love you, Dora," he said.

Wide eyed, Tonks took a step back, "I'm sorry?"

"I love you," Remus repeated, "I love you."

This time it was for sure her stomach doing back flips happily, "I…I love you too, Remus."

Again silence spread over them as Tonks' eyes darted eagerly from Remus' face to the floor as she wondered which she should be paying attention to at that moment.

"Anything else?" she said it harsher than she intended, "You love me. I love you…but…?"

"But nothing," Remus gazed intently at her, "I love you." When he took a step towards her, he felt the box shift in his pocket and it hit Remus then why he had never given the damn thing away.

"Can you forgive me?" he asked.

"For what?"

Remus definitely grinned then, "Don't be like that. For being ridiculous. For leaving."

Once Tonks fully lifted her gaze and let it linger on Remus' face long enough, he could see her eyes were damp with tears, "You mean it?" she asked.

"Yes. I love you, Dora. The day you walked into Headquarters and told me you had spent the morning peeling egg whites off your ceiling after a rather unfortunate attempt at making breakfast…remember that? That day you told that story to all of us, I realized I loved you. You've been my friend and my lover."

With heavy, shaking hands Remus dug into his pocket and withdrew the box. He met Tonks' wet eyes again and found she had darted towards him—now they were mere inches apart. Smiling he said, "I want you to have this." Turning back to the box, he continued, "I've had this for a while. I bought it before I left…before Sirius died…I couldn't…I couldn't sell it…not all the time I was away. I sold my shoes. I sold my traveling cloak. I gave away food. But I couldn't give this away because…I guess…I don't know why. Maybe because it was you…I mean it…it reminded me of you. It was never really mine to give away anyway…I don't…I don't know…"

The box opened on a hinge and inside sat a perfect gold ring. Tonks stared at it as it glowed blissfully in the low light. Sitting and smiling from the band was a small diamond.

"Oh…I…" the tears fell hard from Tonks' eyes, "You…you're an idiot, Remus Lupin! I don't need a ring! What is this?"

Panting, smiling and bursting at the seams Remus answered, "Yes you do. I want you to marry me, Nymphadora Tonks."

She was full out crying out—torn between the perfection and the idiocy of the man before her. Between the sobs Tonks managed to get out, "I don't need a ring! I don't!"

"But you do! Marry me! Please! I'll beg you! I'll get down on one knee!" and before Tonks could protest there was Remus on one knee, holding the box and glistening ring up to his beloved. Tonks likewise fell to her knees and tangled herself up in him—arms, legs, mouths. He pressed his mouth hard against her and wretched It open, tasting her, sweet and lovely—like crisp, clean rain after a tour of the Sahara.

"You…I don't need a ring! But yes! Marry me! I want to marry you!" Tonks screamed happily, pulling her lips off of his.

Remus grabbed Tonks' hand and pulled the ring free at last before slipping it on her finger. Their mouths met again and though they tried to speak, not much was heard or understood or cared to be so. Remus yanked at her, like he was trying to draw his beloved into him and through him. For the briefest of moments he considered pulling away—thinking he was being too rough—but it was then Remus felt Tonks' lips curve into a smile. He couldn't have stopped—even if he had wanted to.


	22. Chapter 22

Epilogue

When it happened it was a mixture of total surprise and not a surprise at all. They all knew it had been coming but to happen on that day? That day? Of all days? The day of the wedding? It was simply bad timing all around.

Kingsley's lynx disappeared in a puff of smoke and immediately Remus was grabbing anyone he could get his hands on and disappararting. Tonks, on the other hand, had direct orders from Arthur about what to happen if such a thing occurred. Their job now was to chauffer everyone away from the place of attack and to the new headquarters but instead of easy picking, Tonks had specific people she was looking for. Shortly after the plans had been worked out, Arthur had approached her and sighed sadly, "I don't want to put a value on life, Tonks. Everyone is important but…if something should arise and my family should be there…please get Ginny and Molly and Fleur out of there first."

And Tonks agreed to it. She searched frantically now amongst the chaos as black cloaks descended upon all party guests. A lacy gold dress caught her eye and Tonks ran for it, grabbing Ginny by the wrist. Green flashes flew overhead and Tonks felt she had no time to search for another. She disappararted.

No one would notice it if they weren't looking for it. In a field somewhere in Scotland there is nothing to be seen unless you are looking for the trap door. It's rather small—only allowing one person to enter at a time. By the time Tonks got there, pulling Ginny along with her, Arthur was exiting the door. He held it open and Tonks could see her father's torso and head poking out of the opening.

"What…what…_Where are we, Tonks?"_ Ginny was screaming. She then began attempting to pull away and even pushed the auror a few good times, "Let me go back! I want to go back! I want to fight!"

But Tonks was throwing the screaming redhead into her father's arms and turning away without answering. Ted easily overpowered Ginny and carried her down the steps to where other confused wedding guests were being kept.

When Tonks got back to the Burrow, those few who hadn't disappararted already were being rounded up by the Death Eaters. The pop that came along with Tonks' and Arthur's sudden appearance made them all jump and turn their attentions away. This gave Remus, who had been hiding behind an overturned table, an ample opportunity to hex one of the Death Eaters in the back of the head. He fell over limply and soon the lot of them were being flooded by spells. A bit of a tussle went down, ending in one Death Eater punching Arthur in the nose. Even through the blood dripping down his face, he managed to hex the offender, grab Fleur and apparate away. As Tonks had reached two wizards (one of them being Charlie Weasley) a Death Eater drew his wand and sent some firey spell straight at her. Tonks managed to duck and disapparate in enough time that it didn't hit its intended target—her heart—but instead merely scorched the side of her arm.

She approached the trap door, pulling Charlie and the other wizard behind her, and knocked fourteen times on it before her father opened it up and allowed the three of them to descend.

"Dora! Your arm!" Ted exclaimed, pointing at his daughter's wound.

Tonks had just sent her two stowaways down the stairs and was on her way back to the Burrow. But now she looked at her arm. The skin was raw, red and blistering in some places. It only hit her then how much it hurt.

Shaking her head, Tonks said, "I'll deal with it when I get back. There are still more I think."

Ted protested but Tonks was gone before he could say much more. Thirty seconds or so later, another pop was heard and Ted saw Arthur traipsing across the field with an elderly woman in two—she looked utterly shell shocked.

"Here we are, Aunty," Arthur was saying as he neared the entrance. He gave a look to Ted, "I'll see her down. She's a little…shook up."

Under about a mile of earth was a deep hole in the ground. It had been furnished somewhat and was now easily holding about thirty dazed dinner guests. Chairs lined the walls, sofas had been brought from anywhere they could be found and even a few beds were there. There were people in all of them. A small doorway on the far side of the room led into a makeshift kitchen area. There was where Andromeda was standing, looking anxiously at the number of people she would soon have to feed.

Molly was the worst of the lot—she had been brought here nearly first by Remus and despite how many questions she threw at anyone, nobody had given her an answer. Even Andromeda was silent and everyone seemed to have no idea what was going on. Across the way she saw her husband guiding old Aunty Muriel down the stairs and she took this opportunity to dart at him. Far from being angry with Arthur, Molly was just glad he was alright. She threw her arms around him, causing him to nearly drop Aunty Muriel.

"Oh Arthur!" Molly burst into tears them, "What is this? Where are we?"

At that moment though the sounds of movement was heard high above them all. Arthur moved Muriel and Molly out of the way to make room for the five people descending the stairs. Ted was carrying a very passed out young witch who had a thick red scar across her chest. Tonks, Remus and Kingsley (who had just then arrived) followed. The mother of the young witch gave a scream and approached Ted. Andromeda ushered the mother, daughter and Ted into the kitchen where she could work on the girl's injury.

Upon seeing Kingsley, questions and yells broke out all over. The auror exchanged looks with Arthur, Tonks and Remus before stepping forward and asking the crowd to be quiet.

"Please, remain calm all!" Kingsley called, "You all are safe. Please! Remain calm!"

After the noise had died down, Kingsley went on, "Upon the death of Dumbledore, this safe house was created in case such an attack would occur. Arthur, myself, the Tonks' and the Lupin's were the only ones who knew of its existence. Andromeda and Ted have supplied us with food and Andromeda is a trained healer. Any wounds or ailments should be directed to her. You are welcome to stay and you are welcome to leave but be warned that the war is only getting started."

Molly turned to her husband then, "Wait. You…you knew…Arthur?"

"Yes," Arthur's face was going bright red, "I'm so sorry, Molly. I couldn't tell anyone."

There was a hustle as more people ran to the four ringleaders and demanded more answers. It was a great while before Arthur, Kingsley, Tonks and Remus had the lot sorted out. And then a real debate began for a few members of the rescued had decided to leave—Kingsley and Arthur were left to decide as to whether they should alter anyone's memory about the safe house.

"What if they want to come back?" Arthur asked, "We can't just not give them a place to go to?"

"And what if the Death Eaters find them and get information out of them?" Kingsley protested.

In the end, the six people who were adamant about leaving did in fact have their memories altered. Most people agreed it was quite cruel but for the sake of safety there wasn't much else to be done. The six were sent out into the field but before they could apparate away, Kingsley quickly hit them with an obliviate charm and then shut the door on them—leaving the lot to wonder why one minute they had been on at the Weasley wedding and now they were in the middle of a field.

Those with any kind of injury were sent to Molly or Andromeda. Food was planned to be served after all wounds had been attended to. The young witch whom Ted had carried in was carefully treated by Andromeda and by supper time, was sitting up in one of the beds, being spoon fed beer stew by her mother. Tonks had shied away from being treated by her mother and instead turned to Molly who easily cleaned and bandaged up her (still red and raw) burn.

"No loosing arms today I hope?" Tonks asked.

"Not quite," Molly was saying sadly—it seemed the shock of all the events today was still heavy for her. Not that anyone could blame her—after months of planning, the perfect wedding had been horribly interrupted by the start of a war. That with the fact that her husband had been cavorting behind her back with plans of some safe house and the fact that now her youngest son was somewhere missing with a convicted criminal (according to the Ministry) and a wanted muggle born.

Remus was walking over towards the two when Molly caught his eye, "I need to talk to you," she said.

"Of course," but Remus' attention was on Tonks, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she said, reassuringly as her husband sat down next to her.

Husband? She thought. Really? My husband. All mine.

Remus put his arm around Tonks' waist and pulled her a bit closer, "We've done well I think," he said, glancing at the room filled with people.

"Yep," Tonks agreed.

But Molly was cutting in now, "What happened to Harry? What about…about Hermione…and Ron?" Her voice broke on the last name.

Remus' hand was now rubbing up and down Tonks' back, "I don't know. They disappararted I know."

"Well, you're going to go find them, aren't you?" Molly seemed to be shaking almost.

"I'm sure we are," Tonks said, "Of course we'd go look for-"

"Well, _you're_ not going anywhere, are you, Tonks? You're _pregnant._"

For the briefest of moments, Tonks could feel her husband's hand falter as he rubbed her back. It was a small hiccup that was easily covered up when Remus spoke up, "Of course we're going to go look for Harry."

"And you'll bring him back here, right?"

With that question, Tonks and Remus looked at each other, unable to answer Molly directly.

::::

It wasn't an ideal wedding night for Bill and Fleur. There were no separate rooms for the newly weds so they had to find an empty bed, like everyone else. Fred, George and Charlie were put on night duty while the rest of them tried to get some rest. Remus managed to find an unclaimed armchair and reclined it back into a laying position so that he and Tonks could sleep. It was a tight fit but neither of them really minded. Remus was still getting over being back from the wolves and anything as warm and sweet as Tonks was welcome. He laid on his side and wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes and said, "Well…this has been an adventurous day."

Tonks smiled and nodded, "Yep. Are you going to go look for Harry tomorrow?"

"I think so, yes," he was starting to get a bit drowsy as the events of the day began catch up with him.

Still smiling, she thought she'd try it—at least see what would happen. Tonks took hold of her husband's hand and laid it gingerly on her belly. Remus hadn't exactly hated the idea that Tonks was pregnant but he hadn't been ecstatic about it either. He smiled and had hugged her but it all seemed too forced to be true. He had insisted they run to tell Andromeda and Ted immediately and Tonks had a sneaking suspicious the answer laid in his unwillingness to discuss the pregnancy any further.

But now he was rubbing her stomach, right where Peanut would be. He stroked it much he would stroke her back, lovingly and sweetly.

"I love you," Remus said.

Time droned on and somehow Tonks found sleep crammed up in that tight arm chair but Remus couldn't seem to. He thought it had less to do with the uncomfortable position he was in—for he was quite used to that—and more to do with the sniveling noise that kept sounding across the room. Hours later and the crying was still going on. Remus sighed a bit with eyes wide and tired, shimmied his way out of the chair and walked towards the kitchen where he found Molly—crying still.

"Would you like some tea?" Remus asked earnestly, closing the door behind him and sitting down at the table. It was all bare bones in here—just a table and cupboards apparently lined with enough food to feed patrons for weeks.

Molly looked up, watery eyed, "Oh. Don't. I'm just…oh, Remus…you _will_ go look for Ron tomorrow, won't you?"

"Of course, Molly," Remus answered.

"And Harry and Hermione of course I mean!"

"Of course."

"And you'll bring them back here?"

Truth be told Remus wasn't sure about this part of the plan. The trio—try as they may—were not exactly the best at hiding secrets. While no one knew exactly what they were up to, it was clear they were up to something. But far from feeling edgy about it—as Molly clearly was—Remus couldn't find it in him to doubt Harry. Time and time ago the boy had proved himself, shown himself to be definitely his father's son—clever, talented and very headstrong. Remus wanted to know what their plan was and perhaps help but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to put a stop to it. Staring into Molly's stricken looking face, he wondered, though, how he was supposed to break this news to her.

"I will try my best."

"Try?"

"Yes. Harry isn't easily persuaded."

"But…but…Hermione! Hermione has got a head on her shoulders. She'll know to come home."

"I'll try, Molly. I swear I will. They're all pretty stubborn. Once they have a plan, they stick to it. It won't be easy but I will try."

Molly nodded then, massaging her knuckles in her grief, "How are you going to get them to come home?"

"I figured I'd just ask them. Tell them what's been going on and what happened…the danger they're in…but…" Remus couldn't help but smile now, "I highly doubt the idea danger would shake Harry. Maybe Ron or Hermione will be enough to persuade him."

"You know how they are, Remus," Molly croaked out, "They won't come. Even for all the money in the world they won't come home!"

"Well I'm going to try."

It was then a kind of wild look darted across Molly's face—it was neither fear nor anger but simply complete madness. She stared Remus up and down as if seeing him for the first time and then spoke, "What if…what if you told them…someone had died?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's a dirty trick, I know, but suppose you told them someone had died? Someone close to them? Perhaps they'd want to come home then. If…oh, god…I can't stand the thought…but tell them…heaven forbid anything should happen to her…but tell them…Fleur or…or my god, even Ginny…"

"Molly! Do you know what you're saying?" Remus made no attempt to stifle his yelling then, "No one has died…that we know of. Could you imagine the pain Harry would feel if he thought for a minute that something was wrong with Ginny? And then to bring him back only to find it was a lie-"

"A lie that will protect them!"

But Remus was shaking his head, "It's too big of a lie. Death is not something we should joke about…in these times-"

"I'm not joking!" Molly too now was screaming, "I'm trying to save my son's life! He's just a boy! He's seventeen and thinks he knows everything! But he's going to die out there, Remus! You know what's out there!"

Reaching across the table to pat Molly's trembling hand, Remus could only smile, "I know…I…I'm sorry, Molly. I know you don't want to hear it but I have faith in Harry-"

"Oh yes!" she was off again, "Harry! Harry Potter! Him too! He's just a boy, Remus!"

It took a great deal of tea to steady her but soon enough Molly found her seat and was back to massaging her knuckles nervously—wordlessly. The two seemed to have reached a standstill and Remus was beginning to feel his eyes get itchy with sleepiness when Molly looked up with that deranged expression again.

"You say death is too big of a lie? How about abandoning your wife?"

Again Remus was raising an eyebrow and saying, "I'm sorry?"

"Tell them you're leaving Tonks. Tell them she's going to have a baby and you don't like it…you think…you think the baby will be a werewolf like you-"

"It's not a genetic-"

"Oh but tell them, Remus! Tell them Andromeda and Ted hate you! If nothing else, Harry will be angry enough to follow you home or something. I'm sorry, Remus. It's a dirty trick. Oh, god I'm sorry but you know how Harry is and…Remus, it's my boy. Ron. My boy."

"Molly-"

"Harry will hate the idea of you abandoning your child and he'll see to it that you go home. I know he will! Oh, it's a horrible trick! God, I know but Remus…it's…it's my boy."

::::

Outside the thick door, she could hear someone was crying. Tonks thought she should stand and check on it but she also knew her mother would have another hissy fit if she discovered her up and about. The crying was muffled anyway—far beyond the door and probably being comforted by others. Still Tonks worried a bit. Crying was not good in these times and she knew in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong.

And then the worst of it came. There was a knock at the door. Not only was there crying but someone felt they had to inform her about it. Andromeda expected Tonks to be sleeping now and everyone took good note to leave her be—on Andromeda's orders of course. There was no reason anyone should be summoning her now. Unless something was wrong.

The knocker didn't even bother to wait for Tonks' welcome—not that she would have given one. The door opened a crack and someone peeped in. Instantly the horrible thoughts left Tonks and she was rising out of the bed and throwing her arms around her husband and as he fully entered the room.

"Oh thank God!" she shrieked, ignoring the dull pain in her side. Taking a moment, Tonks stepped back to examine Remus. He didn't look beaten up or even worn—perhaps just a little pale and worried—but it was clear he hadn't been injured while out and about.

"We haven't heard news for days," she went on, "Not a Patronus or anything."

"You've supposed to be lying down," Remus grinned.

"Don't be my mother," Tonks said with a roll of the eyes, "It was one spell. One spell and one half-assed hit and Mum thinks I'm dying or something."

"Just do me a favor and lie down, Dora. Just to be safe," Remus took her arm then and guided her back to the bed but he wasn't about to let her lie there alone. Crawling in next to her, he examined the room, "Where did this come from?"

"Fleur wasn't very happy about the lack of privacy…which can be expected…so Bill and Arthur and Ginny and some others started digging these tunnels and making some private rooms. Anything for the princess I guess."

Remus eyed his beloved, "Don't be mean. You like having a private room I'm sure."

"If I could leave it, I'd love it a lot more!"

"You shouldn't have gone back-"

"Everyone else was. We were so sure that the Burrow was cleared of Death Eaters by now."

Remus closed his eyes and it seemed he was about ready to fall asleep, "I mean no one should have gone back. Any other injuries?"

"On me? No. Charlie got stunned but Molly cleared that up. Speaking of which…was that her I heard crying?"

"Yes," his hands were on her lips now. Though his eyes were closed, he could find them perfectly, "I didn't bring back Harry and the gang in case you hadn't gathered that. Molly was quite upset."

"You never meant to bring them back though, right?" Tonks took hold of Remus' hand and kissed each finger.

Smiling he said, "Can't say I did. Perhaps you just have to know James to know Harry. And…he's seventeen and I shouldn't but…"

"You trust him?"

"Yes. With my life. And I thought if he came home, alright. But if he didn't…well Molly writes that off as a death notice but I have faith…it's stupid but…it's Harry."

A long while went by in which Tonks took hold of Remus' other hand and began giving it the same attention. Finally she said with a giggle, "Did you do what Molly told you to? I mean…did you tell them what she told you to tell them?"

Now Remus was laughing, "Yes. I can't say they bought it though. I'm a horrible actor. Harry got it I think…" his eyes turned sad for a moment, "He won't forgive me easily for that but I think it was worth a try." Laughing again Remus said, "I put a little fire in his belly as Molly put it."

With a kiss of the thumb Tonks said, "Or you just upset him so he can't do his job."

"Nah. I don't mean that much to him."

Another long while went by. Remus had gone silent and he was breathing softly. Tonks couldn't help but to lay her hand across his chest and even through the clothes he was wearing, she could feel his heart softly pounding. As horrible or conceited as the thought may be she couldn't help but beam at the thought that that heart and all the love inside of it was hers and all hers. The man and the wolf and every little thing in between was all hers.

Tonks thought Remus had drifted off to sleep so it startled her when he suddenly spoke up and said, "How would you feel about Harry as the godfather?"

Placing her hand back on his heart Tonks smiled, "For Peanut? I love it. Couldn't have a better choice."

His eyes opened and Remus found Tonks' face, "I love you, Nymphadora Tonks."

With a roll of the eyes she added with a snarky tone, "Please. Call me Mrs. Lupin."

"Fine. I love you Mrs. Lupin."

"And I love you, Mr. Lupin."

::::

"Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence."  
-Erich Fromm


End file.
